The Tale of the Hyacinth
by kuropi-chan
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Hyacinthus-the poor, unfortunate prince who died from a discus blow to his head, a crime attributed to a jealous West Wind. But was this really what happened in one of the greatest flower myths of Ancient Greece?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek mythology

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No one had an inkling that the grandiose celebration held at Helios' bright palace would result in such legendary heights as that of the Trojan War. It was certainly not on anyone's mind as the gods and goddesses trooped to the Sun-god's palace to give their warmest salutations and congratulatory remarks to Clymene, his wife, for giving birth to a healthy baby boy.

"Oh what a delightful child he is!" Hera was heard to say as she affectionately held the babe's hand, which in return clasped her hand in return.

Even the Three Virgin goddesses who were immune to all of Aphrodite's coaxing and prodding towards the ways of Love were in raptures over the constant happy gurgling the cherub produced when he was presented by his mother.

"You must have thought of a name for this dear thing," Athena inquired of the child's mother as she rocked the newest addition to the Sun-god's growing brood.

"Helios insists to name him Phaёton, and claims that it is but his right as I have named all our daughters," Clymene replied with a smile. "And he has a point too."

"I most certainly agree!" thundered the King of the gods from his side of the room where he was engaged in conversation with the new father. "One should wonder what names our children would have if they had all been named by their mothers!"

Poseidon, who was entertaining Phaёton's sisters with dolphins sculpted from pearls, looked up and roared: "Is that resentment I sense, brother? Perhaps if you had your way, your children would have monstrous names!" This quick reply was rewarded with laughter that echoed throughout the room.

Zeus would have snorted a retort had not the sudden arrival of the last of the expected guests interrupted him. Helios' daughters were distracted from their uncle's presents as they turned their heads to discover the arrival of Helios' other sister, Eos.

"Auntie Eos! Auntie Eos!" was the general outcry of the little girls as they ran to the receiving hall of their father's palace to greet their pink rose-like aunt. Eos returned their cries with warm cuddles which they loved.

"Eos, I thought you would never make it!" Helios picked his sister in a tight hug and twirled her around as though she were one of his daughters.

"You embarrass me, Helios!" Eos tinkling laughter echoed through the hall as she was set on her feet. "I most certainly would not miss the birth celebration of a nephew. You must tell me: does he look like the Heliades?"

Helios shook his head. "I will not reveal the secret, dearest sister. But you must come take a peek at my little boy. By the by," a searching look appeared on his face as he sought to see if she had arrived with anyone else. "Where are my tempestuous nephews and those twinkling twins of yours?"

"I am beginning to wish I had daughters of my own..." Eos mock sighed.

Artemis laughed. "Please say you do not mean it, Eos! Great-uncle Oceanus has too many daughters of his own that I believe he has somehow forgotten their names."

"Take me to see the little cherub then, brother!" Eos demanded with a smile as she linked arms with Artemis and Selene, who appeared to greet her sister. "I do hope Clymene is here too!"

"But where are your children?" Demeter asked.

"The little darlings are with their father, Demeter, so I have nothing to worry about from that sector." Eos happily chirped.

"And what about the Anemoi?" inquired Selene, much surprised at her sister's quick release of parental duty to her spouse.

"Ah! Boreas is probably teasing Eurus, much to Notus' chagrin, to amuse my twins and Zephyr is escorting my niece to this joyous event," turning to Helios, Eos added, "You did know that Hecate is coming in behalf of her parents?"

"Little Hecate?" was the incredulous remark of the entire room. No one had seen Perses and Astreia's daughter since after the birth celebration was held. The god of destruction preferred to keep him daughter within the 'safe' confines of his spacious palace with very seldom visits from her cousins to entertain her.

"I doubt you'll find her 'little' anymore. She's grown into a veritable beauty! Now show me the little cherub that I may congratulate his dear mamma!" At this command, Eos was promptly shown to the other hall whereupon laying eyes on her newest nephew pronounced him a darling lamb and gifted the gurgling child with a kiss.

oo00oo

While she was in raptures over her nephew, Eos was hardly distracted when her husband and children arrived at the receiving hall. There they were swiftly surrounded by various relations and were embraced, kissed and remarked on. It was only when Zephyr arrived with Hecate that the crowd somewhat calmed down and a seemingly reverent silence enveloped the receiving hall.

The silence would have continued had not Hecate gave the Sun-god a kiss on the cheek and greeted him as uncle before apologizing for her parents' absence at this most festive occasion, at the same time assuring him that they were pleased at the newest addition to the family.

Helios was quite speechless, hemming and hawing as a reply to his sister's niece's greeting.

"Rest assured, Hecate. Helios is not at all displeased with your parents' absence. He is just taken by your unconcealed beauty." Poseidon laughed. "We haven't seen you since your birth celebration that we did not know what to expect!"

"Uncle, please! It is quite early for flattery!" Boreas mock yawned from the pillar he was leaning against, after a sea of relations hindered him from making his way to the hall where his new cousin was. He was rewarded by Poseidon with a strong punch on the shoulder.

"Astraeus, your eldest son is still as insolent as ever!" Nevertheless, Poseidon was laughing, sharing in the joke that Boreas had given.

Eos' husband gave a small bow of his head and murmured an apology to which the god of the sea gave a wave of his hand, dismissing the apology and adding: "I see that he gets his sense of humour from his mother. You are too serious, Astraeus."

The group made their way to the other hall, which was bigger and where the celebration was in full swing. The other gods and goddesses—who had not come to greet and crush the other guests—called out their greetings to the new arrivals. Some of them preferred to result in commentary over the appearances of the guests.

Apollo was engaged in the latter with his half-brother, the messenger-god, and his sister, who had left Eos to exchange conversation with Clymene. They were in one corner of the room, watching the flood of relatives enter along with Eos' family.

"Those twins are still twinkling as ever," Artemis remarks as Hesperus and Esosphorus, Eos' twin sons, came into view. "They really do take after Astraeus."

"It's the Anemoi that boggles the mind though," Hermes pointed out. "After all, they take after neither parent. It's as though they were born out of the hereditary complex."

Artemis nodded in agreement. "That is most certainly true."

Apollo sighed. "Oh will you two shut it. Everyone is quite aware without you two having to say that the Anemoi look nothing like their mother—with the exception of Eurus. He most certainly looks like E—is that Hecate?" At the question, he craned his neck to get a better look going as far as to stand up.

Hermes rolled his eyes. "Must you be so tiresome? Yes, it is Hecate. Did you not hear Eos mention she'd be arriving?"

"But I did not know how she'd grown in beauty too!"

Artemis laughed as Hermes made odd gagging noises. "I believe brother has found himself quite taken with the very same person he was taken with back when we were younger."

Apollo rounded on his sister. "I will have you know that Hecate kept my heart when we left Auntie Astreia's place!"

"So did all the other women he's chased," Hermes added in a whisper.

Artemis had to laugh at this injunction. Trust Hermes to add a little comedy in Apollo's constant claims of having left his heart with one girl or another. Apollo was quite furious and would have up and at his half-brother had not his sister stopped him.

oo00oo

And there were also some immortals who'd rather they idled away their time in one corner than join the happy fray that welcomed Eos' family. On this occasion, it was Aphrodite who numbered among them. But quite a different Aphrodite this was.

Unlike her usual bubbly self, the goddess of love and beauty was the farthest thing from beautiful at the very moment Hecate had entered the room in the arm of her cousin. Aphrodite did not appreciate being eclipsed by a fellow goddess, let alone one younger than her.

It sorely vexed her.

"How dare that little vixen come in here and try to overthrow me," she muttered bitterly to herself as she sipped her glass of ambrosial nectar.

But what really annoyed the goddess was the presence of the West Wind at Hecate's side. He dare show his face after having insulted her when she encountered him in Olympus earlier that week. _To be fair, he was certainly dashing_, she thought, biting her lip as she did. _But he ignored me completely, although I was most encouraging._

Zephyr had been on an errand for his mother and had accidentally walked in on Aphrodite in the garden with her pet doves. Startled, she would have demanded what it was he wanted had she not noticed how strikingly handsome he was. She was immediately taken with him only to have him reject her advances with a curt: "I beg your pardon but as it is, I am on an errand."

She would never forgive such a slight! There she was, more than willing to throw herself at him, only to be spurned in such a non-appreciative manner. And now she would find herself in the same room with him—and his upstart of a cousin.

She would not stand for it!

_Just wait and see, you fool! I will have my revenge yet!_ Aphrodite thought smugly to herself as she took on a winning smile on her countenance and came forward to greet her distant relations.

oo00oo

Indeed, no one would have thought that the birth celebration of the Sun-god's son would bring forth such events that would rival that of the Trojan War. But of course, not even the gods were aware—save for Aphrodite, but she could not be credited with what would become one of the famous flower myths of all ancient Greece.

Certainly not she!

She would be the beginning of it, but only that.

**To be continued...**

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**A/N: This is the prologue. I hope you do like it! Please R&R, I do so love to read feedback!


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology. It belongs to the Ancient Greeks and their great literature.

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Zephyr stared at his eldest brother in a state of semi-amazement. As he gained his composure, he found that he was not the only one the North Wind had put in such surprise. In fact, Notus was half-glaring, half-threatening Boreas without words, allowing his eyes to do the talking. Eurus's eyes were as wide as they could be, as though he were begging his elder brother to reconsider.

What _had _led to this state of affairs which left the other three cardinal winds quite speechless?

"You dare insult us, the Anemoi, by sullying our sacred ground and then requesting that we send favourable winds for your eldest son's journey?" the North Wind's voice rumbled throughout the temple. "Perhaps you have forgotten that the gods are not subject to man's whims."

Zephyr averted his eyes from his brother and cast a glance at the pitiful figure prostrated before them. All he could see was the greying head faced down, practically cowering in fright. Did Boreas really have to do this? It was certainly no fault of this man, why then should he bear the brunt of the North Wind's anger?

_And since when did Boreas care so much about sacred places?_ Zephyr thought, rebelliously. As far as he remembered, it had always been his second elder brother, Notus, who had been censorious about sullying sacred grounds and foregoing sacred tradition and yet it was Boreas who was blowing his top over such a miniscule detail.

"I have half a mind to drown your son and reduce your male offspring by one or two. Perhaps even wipe them all off the face of the earth...but then that would only make it too easy on you and we wouldn't want that now, would we?" the North Wind continued.

An inaudible reply was made by the prostrate figure, at which Boreas's eyes narrowed.

Zephyr felt Eurus wince when a strong blast of violent wind came from Boreas's general direction as the North Wind got on his feet and pointed an accusatory finger at the huddled figure before them. In a tone that signalled his dangerous mood, he said: "I, the North Wind, demand the person of Hyacinthus, son of Amyclas, King of Laconia. Should you not wish to sacrifice a younger son to the Anemoi, I will not hesitate to take one of your daughters as just compensation. Choose wisely, old man, because whichever decision you make, know that it will be the last time you lay eyes on either of your offspring, be it the prince or one of his sisters."

Notus cleared his throat in manner as though to tell Boreas he had gone too far, but he was rewarded with a deadly, cutting look from Boreas that he ventured no further to speak out. Eurus would have said something, or done something, but he was being held back by the overprotective South Wind, who feared that Boreas would have spared none his wrath, not even their second to the youngest brother.

"Please do not take my children away from me, O mighty North Wind," the King half-whispered, half-cried. "They are the only things I have left to remind me of my late wife."

Zephyr saw Eurus turn away. His third brother had always had a soft heart toward mankind, it didn't matter if they deserved it or not—although the great irony was that the very people his brother endeavoured to be the recipient of one good turn or another always seemed to make a mockery out of the East Wind.

But Boreas was not to be easily swayed to take pity on the old man. On the contrary, storm clouds began to gather around the shores of Aeolia, threatening to wreck the small fleet of ships docked along it.

Perhaps it was the fear of losing everything that drove the King to hoarsely whisper the name of his youngest son—perhaps the idea of his daughter being toyed and then driven away to poverty and shame by a god was more than he could bear.

As soon as the name escaped the old king's lips, the strong winds dissipated and Zephyr could see a shadow pass over his brother's face only to disappear.

"Then we are in agreement, sir, with regard to our bargain, are we not?" the North Wind said in a tone that sounded both jovial and heavy. Such was the irony. Without waiting for the King's reply, Boreas ordered the chief priest to "take the boy up to the palace. Oh, and see to it he doesn't make a mess of them room you settle him in."

The chief priest bowed, and without turning his back, left the room to perform the duty required of him. The King watched forlornly as the old man disappeared.

"Do cheer up," Boreas motioned to the king. "I hate long faces—especially in the temple. It vexes me...immensely."

At this injunction, Eurus hurriedly rose from his throne and left the room. His shielded his face from the room as he left but Zephyr was quite certain that he was shedding tears. Indeed, the East Wind was soft but anyone could see that perhaps Boreas had gone too far as to mock the old king's grief at losing his son.

"Did you _really_ have to do that?" Notus muttered under his breath as his gaze watched the door through which the East Wind had disappeared into.

"He'll come around," Boreas waved his hand dismissively. "But _that_ isn't of any importance at the moment." Turning to Zephyr, he asked, "So are you willing to guarantee the safe departure of the crown prince of Laconia from his home and his safe arrival at his soon-to-be wife's city?"

Zephyr's brows knitted as he narrowed his eyes. What sort of question was that? He had more than once wanted to interrupt his brother's tirade against the king and agree to guarantee the safe travel of the crown prince. After all, hadn't the king already sacrificed two pure white bulls?

"Do give it a rest, Zephyr. So will you or won't you? We'll have to give this old man a reply whether we like it or not."

Zephyr gave an inward sigh before signalling his consent. Trust Boreas to make you feel burdened with something that wasn't of your own doing.

"I speak for Eurus and guarantee the safe return of the crown prince," Notus added.

"That settled," Boreas turned to the old king who sat utterly dejected at the turn of events, unsure about how to explain to his other children the loss of a brother to the gods. "We, the Anemoi, have agreed to meet our end of this arrangement. Your eldest son will leave and return in good condition and safe winds will help him complete his journey."

The King bowed his head, acceding to Boreas's words.

At this, the North Wind stood and departed without so much as a glance toward the old king. Notus followed suit but not without giving the mortal a look that somewhat resembled pity. As he passed Zephyr, the South Wind gave his brother's shoulder a pat, as though telling him to follow their exit, before leaving through the doors that the East Wind had passed.

Now Zephyr was alone with the old king, who was still sitting on his legs with his head bowed, contemplating on the best way to break the news to his remaining children. Zephyr propped his chin on his hands and watched as the king shook his head as tears streamed down his weathered cheeks, murmuring soundless whispers to himself—forgetting the presence of the West Wind entirely.

Not that it bothered Zephyr. In fact, he was quite fascinated at the sight of it. Being immortal, he had never quite grasped the idea of grief. Certainly, he had seen several displays of it from his fellow immortals. Like when two of Artemis's hounds had died, the Huntress was so distraught she was unable to leave her home for a few days or when Zeus would fall silent at the news that one or two of his many paramours had succumbed to Hera's wrath. But the grief of the immortals came and went. Soon Artemis was laughing and smiling after Hermes gifted her with some hounds he'd found wandering in a forest. Zeus was off chasing skirts as well.

But something about the old king's sadness told Zephyr that this wasn't the kind of grief that happened "in passing" similar to the bouts of sadness felt by the gods. On the contrary, it spoke of a heavy weight on the king's mind and heart.

Zephyr stood up. He wasn't going to allow a good leader such as this king die of grief in the Anemoi's temple. Without a word, he approached the old king. Holding out a hand to him, he said: "I think it's best if you got up. Your old knees won't be able to take much longer."

The king looked up and saw the hand offered him, glanced at the face that had taken pity on his haunted self. At last, finding his voice, he spoke to the West Wind. "Lord Zephyr, I beseech you to take pity on my youngest son."

Without knowing why, Zephyr felt moved by the request that he replied he would see that no harm came to the seventh prince of Laconia. He even swore by the river Styx to do so and when he did, evident relief came to the old king's face as he grasped the West Wind's hand fervently as though he were thanking him for putting his paternal mind at ease.

When he was certain that the old king was soundly on his feet, Zephyr bid him a silent farewell before retreating toward the door his eldest brother had exited. No sooner had the door behind him closed then the sound of a pair of hands clapping reached him. To his surprise—and irritation—Boreas, who had been waiting for his brother to exit the temple chamber, was leaning against the wall as his eyes scouted their island's coasts through one of the windows. It was his hands that were the source of the _infernal clapping,_ Zephyr duly noted.

"I fancy that you are displeased with me, brother." Boreas turned to face him. Much to Zephyr's chagrin, an ill-suited smirk sat on his eldest brother's face. "I can tell by the way your eyes are glaring at me."

"Would you be so kind as to explain why you require a mortal because as far as I can recall, the Anemoi have never demanded a human sacrifice. Ever," Zephyr's left eyebrow went up as he 'glared' at his brother.

Boreas shrugged. "Why you think I have to explain myself to you is quite baffling really. After all, I am the eldest."

"What are you implying?" was the sharp reply.

"Know this," Boreas murmured sweetly as he cupped his brother's chin, forcing him to stare at the North Wind eye-to-eye. "When mother gave birth to us, I came first. As the eldest, I have the responsibility to see to it that my younger siblings get what they deserve."

For a moment, confusion arose in Zephyr's eyes and this did not escape the North Wind's notice.

"You seem puzzled, brother. Perhaps I am not making myself clear to you," Boreas paused for a moment, letting go of his brother, before he went on. "_I _will make the decision when no consensus can be reached. It is my privilege as the eldest—as well as my burden."

"Consensus?" a voice scoffed. Both Zephyr, who had seated himself in one of the chairs present, and Boreas turned to find the voice coming from the South Wind, who stood leaning by the doorway. "Perhaps you have forgotten, _brother_, that we did not reach a consensus until you'd wrestled _this_ from the old mortal's hold." Notus held up the arm of the seventh prince whom he had dragged with him into the room where Zephyr and Boreas were engaged in their conversation.

Without so much as a thought, Notus thrust the prince into the midst. The lad fell with a solid thud on the ground but that hardly mattered to the South Wind. He rounded on his elder brother and informed him, rather viciously, that due to his inexplicably horrendous behaviour during the ceremony, the East Wind was reduced to a crumpled heap of nerves and tears that will take some time to sooth.

"He refused to let me in," the South Wind half-grumbled, half-pointedly said as he settled himself into a chair. Motioning to the quivering being in their midst, he added: "So what are _you _going to do with preposterous baggage you've hoisted as our 'sacrifice.'"

"Seeing as Eurus would probably feel immensely guilty at having to keep it," Boreas replied with a smirk and an equally patronizing tone. "I think I'll hand it over to the West Wind's jurisdiction."

"I beg your pardon?" Now both Zephyr's eyebrows were up and his eyes became wary as he watched the North Wind pick up the prince from the floor. Without another word, Boreas unceremoniously deposited the seventh prince of Laconia onto Zephyr's lap.

Even the South Wind was taken aback. "You're handing _that_ to our brother? Who do you think we are? Satyrs? Fauns? We do not take the leavings of anyone—be it yourself even."

"Well, if you're so high and mighty, perhaps you'd like to have _it._" Boreas smirked even more, which added fuel to the almost enraged South Wind. "Although it seems you'll have to fight Zephyr for it. It seems the West Wind is starting to feel an affinity toward our little sacrifice."

The prince—perhaps in nervous fright—had taken hold of Zephyr's robes and looked pale as his lips quivered and his eyes were wide with shock. Zephyr attempted to wrestle his robes from the clenched pale hands of the subject of his brothers' discussion. On hearing, Boreas's words though, he ceased his labours and glared balefully at Boreas.

"Kindly desist from any references toward myself and this baggage with which you have saddled me with," he said.

A chuckle escaped from Boreas. "By and by, you will thank me, brother."

Zephyr frowned. "I highly doubt that."

"You demand a sacrifice and yet you saddle Zephyr with the responsibility of watching it? Are you mad?" Notus's tone was dangerously annoyed.

"Oh no, in fact it is my belief that I'm in quite an exceptionally good mental state." Boreas shook his head, ruefully. "It's my fellow immortals who have gone mad."

"Say something," the South Wind hissed as his youngest brother.

Zephyr started. What in the cosmos' name did Notus want him to say?

"Why don't you just slit its throat and get this over with? After all it is a sacrifice" Notus muttered. He was rewarded by laughter from the North Wind who said: "I thought you did not believe that mortals should sacrifice their fellow mortals."

"I'd rather see that piece of mortality fade away than have Zephyr subjected to the degradation of having to play nanny to that little—"

Boreas stopped Notus before he could continue by cutting him short. "Whether you like it or not, Zephyr will be responsible for that thing. You have your hands full with Eurus and I doubt you can take up another."

"And what are _you_ going to be doing?" Notus folded his hands across his chest. "Weren't you the one who demanded for the sacrifice? Now that you have it, you're passing the responsibility on?"

At the last accusation, Boreas rounded on Notus and would have delivered a stinging blow on his brother's face had not he stopped his hand in mid-air. "Do **not**, under any circumstances, tell me that I am passing on my responsibility. I took the sacrifice in behalf of our brothers because they deserve so much more than two measly pieces of livestock. You and I both know that."

Notus looks as though he would say something, and in Zephyr's opinion, this did not bode well. With Eurus mourning their eldest brother's cruelty, no one would be able to rein in on two Winds fighting—not even himself. "I've had enough of all this talk," he rose from his seat, the 'sacrifice' in his arms. "If you two would like to smack each other silly, by all means, do so."

"And where do you think you're taking that...that creature?" Notus's disgusted tone implied that he would not want to be granted any further sightings of the youngest son of the king of Laconia.

"That would be none of your concern," Zephyr replied, pointedly, before turning to Boreas to add: "It would be ungracious of me not to thank you for _this_ so I do thank you, brother, but I'd prefer if you'd keep my personal business as it is: PERSONAL."

Without a parting glance at either of his brothers, Zephyr departed from the room, baggage and all.

No sooner had Zephyr left than Boreas erupted in good-natured laughter, earning Notus's ire and a quick, reprimand: "I do not see what is so amusing in such a situation."

The laughter ceased, replaced with an unsightly glare. "Do not mock me, Notus. I have no patience for such."

Notus took one look at his brother before departing for Eurus's chambers in an attempt to draw him from them, all the while muttering on how their parents could have ever given birth to such a disruptive child as his elder brother. The North Wind ignored this and turned to look out the window as he had done before he had been interrupted by Zephyr's arrival.

"This will be quite amusing," he murmured.

**To be continued...**

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**A/N: I do hope the chapter was quite enjoyable. It took me about a week or two to finish it due to various revisions and repetitions. Please review, review, review—I would so like to hear from you guys and what you think about my drabble! Thank you!


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology.

A/N: Thank you very much to the people who have continually read this story. I am most appreciative. I hope the following chapters do not disappoint. But please, do feel free to give me your insights, comments and even voice your dismays. Again, thank you.

Dedicated to all my readers who stuck with me 'til chapter one!

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The humidity was surrounding him, suffocating the very air he breathed. Hidden behind a rock, he quietly notched an arrow to his bow before taking another peek from his hiding place. There, a few paces from where he stood, was a young deer munching contentedly on some grass. It was unaware of the impending doom it was to suffer.

How fortunate he was to have stumbled on the deer after having lost his way in the forest. He was quite comforted by the thought that _should_ he find his way back to their camp, he could at least brag about having felled the deer all by himself.

And what an accomplishment it would be for him. After all, most of the hunting expeditions he had been on had always almost resulted to his elder brothers making the kill. Somehow they justified this to their having more experience, but it wasn't until after he overheard a conversation between his father and his second brother that he realized that the lack of experience was not the _one_ reason behind it.

There were other reasons, but the one that stood out the most was that his father did not relish the thought of his youngest son making a kill unsupervised.

"Should anything happen to that boy, I may have your head for it," he heard his father sternly added before he slipped away, quite angered.

He had been ten then.

Biting his lip, as though to stop the memory, he turned his mind to the task before him before the deer was lost. But just before he could let fly his arrow four massive _dogs_ came onto the scene—if one _could _call them dogs.

They looked more like the wild wolves that roamed the forests in his hometown. They growled and snarled like ravenous wolves that they resembled. Each had a pair of deadly blue eyes holding a glint of murder in them. Their fur coats were rich, thick and dark. None of them had any appearance of light in them.

Having scared off the game, they surprised him by behaving in a strangely non-predatory manner. Instead of going after the deer, they sat themselves in the clearing where it stood and growled while surveying their surroundings.

He did not know when, but he must have stepped on a lying branch on the forest floor because the next thing he heard was the sound of an arrow passing through the air and securing itself onto the rock where he was hiding. In his panic, he heard the sound of a crack of a branch and before he could get himself up, the fiendish wolves were on him.

It was unclear to him what chilled his blood more: the sound of the animals howling or the sound of thundering horses. It must have been one or the other for when the riders burst forth into the clearing, he was quite faint with fear slumped on the forest floor, with his back against the boulder.

"Well, well, well. What _have_ we here?" he heard one of the riders chuckling as he dismounted.

"Don't touch it!" another one of the riders gave a sharp command. "It might be poisoned—or worse."

The first voice gave a chortle. "Must you be so wary of everything, Notus?"

"Rest assured, brother, I had not meant that command for you," was the sarcasm-laced reply of the second voice. "I meant it for the hounds. It would be a mess if they fell ill because of your irresponsibility."

He opened his eyes, but his vision was blurred—perhaps due to the inexplicable fright he suffered—but he was able to make out that three of the riders had dismounted. Two of them stood next to each other, while the third stood next to a fourth rider who was still astride his steed.

He heard one of them approach him and he felt himself being prodded with one end of a bow. After some minutes, he heard the first voice speak again. "I believe it isn't ill or poisoned. He must have suffered a fright because of your hounds, Notus."

"My hounds?" the second voice—it became apparent that he was the dismounted rider standing beside the steed—bristled. "My hounds look relatively tame compared to your brutes."

At this comment, two growls were heard from the mentioned animals.

"I believe that particular sentiment requires an apology. Kaikias and Skeiron, do not seem to take your criticism all too well."

"My sentiments are my sentiments. Nothing changes."

"Oh please do not fight," a third voice chimed in. It was the rider still mounted. The poor, faint victim found himself quite surprised to hear such a voice. It was clear very much like pristine, crystal waters personified. "I do not like it when you fight." It was very much unlike the somewhat rough, manlier voices of the previous two speakers.

"We aren't fighting. It's only a discussion." The first voice clarified before turning his attention back to the poor hunter, who had now become the prey. "I find it quite odd that here we are out for a ride and find ourselves stumbling upon a half-dead creature like this."

"Does it even matter?" the second voice snapped. "So we find it in _our_ forest, so what? I think it best to leave it as is. What in mother Gaia's name are you doing, Zephyr?"

There was the sound of a large piece of cloth being spread out before a fourth voice replied: "I recall Aeoleus mentioning the arrival of a party from Sparta."

"_Ah_..." the first voice murmured, as thought giving his assent. "Then this must be a member of that particular party."

"Do you think it lost its way?" the mounted rider queried.

"Perhaps." The fourth voice gave a shrill whistle and the hounds somehow heeded him, he gave his orders in a language the poor hunter did not understand. What he did understand was that the hounds were stalking toward him.

And in his fright, he screamed.

oo00oo

Hyacinthus felt himself being shaken severely and, once or twice, he was given a somewhat hard pat on either cheek. He fought against his 'attacker,' only to hear the command: "Wake up!"

Ceasing his struggling, he opened his eyes and found his wrists in the powerful grasp of a dark-haired man. He would have ran and yelled even louder, had not the door to the room opened and a strong gust of wind come in, followed by a stern-looking man with light brown hair and angry blue eyes.

"What is this infernal ruckus about?" the visitor demanded.

"I assure you brother, it was not intentional," was the reply given calmly by Hyacinthus' 'attacker'.

The visitor glared at Hyacinthus before turning to his 'brother' and saying, "See to it that it doesn't happen again" before turning on his heel to leave the room, taking with him the cool air that hung about the room and causing the heavy wooden doors to bang shut.

It wasn't until after his departure that Hyacinthus felt himself being upraised by a pair of silver grey eyes that stared at him until he was quite uncomfortable with himself. He murmured an incoherent apology, which only merited a raised brow.

Perhaps it wasn't the brow that irked him, or maybe it was, Hyacinthus wasn't certain. One thing was for sure, he was not putting up with being eyed like a fool on display. A dagger on the edge of the table by his bedside caught his eye.

There was a flash, a tussle, then a thud.

And when it had cleared, the picture that would have met any viewer's eye would have elicited not only raised brows but perhaps even whispers and murmurs, for sprawled on the floor was the 'attacker.' Astride him was Hyacinthus, breathing heavily as beads of perspiration formed on his brow while holding the dagger's blade to his neck.

**To be continued...**

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A/N: Oh the inspiration just flows forth! I am so happy I got this chapter out before I could forget it! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology. But I do own the other characters (i.e., Hyacinthus' siblings).

A/N: I took forever trying to figure out what I ought to put for this chapter. Trying to follow-up the previous chapter (at least mentally) is already hard. What more harrowing your mind for more ideas. Anyway, I hope this one meets everyone's satisfaction (or dissatisfaction)-whatever rocks your sock. Thank you for the continued reading. All the best to you guys!

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"Father, how could you?"

King Amyclas looked up—his face having been buried in his hands. It still betrayed traces of utmost sadness that his third son softened after gazing into the old king's tired eyes. But that did not deter him from seeking an answer for his inquiry.

"Did you even consider that your youngest son has never set foot outside the palace?" the questions still poured out, although now in a gentler tone.

"I have considered it, Evzen. You mock me by assuming I did not think of your brother's capacity for survival outside the palace," Amyclas said, defensively. "Why else do you think would I have asked him to join me on this trip?"

The third prince shook his head. "Father, I am not trying to mock you. I am trying to understand how you could leave Hyacinthus—your son, my _youngest _brother—as a..." He paused before continuing. "As a sacrifice—Since when has it been a tradition for Laconia to allow such a heinous—"

"They would have asked for your sisters instead!" The king roared. "Your sisters—and I could not have allowed a greater misfortune to fall upon them. They are the spitting image of your mother and are of her sex! I will not have them trifled with and made to live out the rest of their lives in a hypocrisy-ridden cage."

"Your Highness, please calm—" another young man tried to pacify the aged Amyclas.

But the king did not heed him, instead he went on. "You know the fate that awaits women who have brought into the world these...these..._demigods_! I will not have it for my daughters and I will do whatever it takes to protect them."

"Even going as far as to sacrifice your own blo—"

"Evzen, that is enough," the young man who had tried to pacify the king spoke. "Father is already agitated, that is very much evident. I am sure our brother can very well manage—on his own."

It took at most three soldiers to hold back the third prince as he rounded on his brother, shouting: "Your own flesh and blood, Cletus, and you leave him for the wolves!"

Cletus turned to his father. "Father, I trust in your decision. I am certain you did it for the best. My brother will come round to your perspective in this matter," he assured him. "Perhaps when he set foot in Laconia, he will be more _amiable_." At the last words, Evzen shook off the soldiers holding him back before leaving the tent.

"Should we go after him, my Lord?" one of the soldiers inquired.

"No...no, that will not be necessary," Amyclas stayed them. "I do not blame Evzen for his outburst. Even I question my judgement in this matter."

"Father, that won't be necessary. You _are_ our king," Cletus grasped his father's shoulders firmly. "You would not have given up Hyacinthus for so little a reason."

The fourth prince was taken aback when his father thanked him, kindly, before adding: "Yes, but was it worth your brother?"

oo00oo

The sound of sand and gravel crunching behind him caused Evzen to cease gazing into the very flame of the fire before him and look to the origin of the disturbance. He frowned when he saw Cletus, arms folded across his chest.

"Terentia will never forgive me," Evzen murmured as he threw in more wood, causing the fire to crackle. "I promised her I'd watch over him."

Cletus settle himself on the log that served as a long seat. "You didn't have to provoke him, you know."

"Sometimes," Evzen interrupted. "I wonder if father knows half the things he does."

The fourth prince was silent for a moment as he studied his elder brother. Evzen seemed to have aged after having been told the news of the bargain their father had struck. _Ah, I almost forgot that he was Evzen's favourite_, Cletus noted.

He had always noticed the preferential treatment Hyacinthus received from their third brother. When Evzen left the palace on hunting trips, he would always come back with a little pet for their youngest brother—sometimes a field mouse, once a little owl, and on several occasions, a hare.

Once, on discovering that Evzen was to leave on a month-long visit to Pthia, Hyacinthus demanded that his brother cut short his trip to a week in length. Apparently, the little prince had heard whispers in court that his brother was to find himself a bride on the visit, as it was well-known that the Pthian king had many daughters and no sons to rule.

"You shan't leave!" the young Hyacinthus squealed as he hung on desperately to Evzen's hand, crying. It took all of Terentia's persuasive powers to pry him off Evzen and keep him entertained for the next two weeks. In the end, Evzen cut his trip short, citing the desire to attend the entrance ceremony of their second to the youngest brother, who was to be a priest in the main temple.

Those closer to him knew that _that_ was not the real reason he had hurried home after fourteen days. Instead, it was a dream in which he saw the child Hyacinthus crying himself to sleep.

Cletus remembered watching as the second prince tucked Hyacinthus to bed as the little rascal made repeated requests for a story because "Trent'a tells me lots."

"Hyacinthus adores him," Terentia whispered. She had been watching the tableau as she stood next to him. "He was distraught when Evzen was away."

Cletus pulled his gaze from the scene and turned it to his eldest sister. "Did he give you a difficult time?" he asked, sympathetically.

Terentia replied with a weary smile.

Lost in his reverie, Cletus did not hear his brother addressing him until Evzen had repeated it a third time. At that he blinked, before turning to his brother. "I apologize. I did not hear what you said."

"That much in pretty obvious," was his brother's wry reply.

Cletus shook his head. "Don't let's be sarcastic, brother. I was only recalling the time you went on your journey to Pthia."

Evzen chuckled as he took a twig that he found lying nearby. "I don't remember much of the trip, although I do recall rushing back in time for Galen's investiture." There was a slight pause, before Evzen continued. "Did Terentia really have her hands full with the little tyke?"

"Are you oblivious as you are sarcastic?" Cletus laughed. "Had you not returned I could bet you that the palace would have long crumbled." Sobering up, he suddenly asked the question that had long been in his mind. "Tell me, Evzen. Why do you try so hard?"

"What do you mean?" confusion crept into his brother's voice.

Cletus shrugged. "I mean, what is it about Hyacinthus that makes you cut short a trip to Pthia—a potential marriage market, a chance to start your own family? You practically built the cosmos around him."

"Is that envy I sense?" Evzen poked Cletus with the twig.

Cletus swat the twig away. "I sincerely do not know what it is you are talking about."

Evzen nodded, signifying his having understood Cletus' question. He hemmed and hawed for a few moments before returning to the subject. "Do you remember how things were after mother died?"

_When your mother died, she left a hole in the kingdom_. Cletus recalled his tutor saying that a month after the queen had been buried. It was the truth. For months on end, it seemed as though the kingdom was falling into shambles. His father's capability to rule had been questioned more than once as the king's occasional bouts of grief punctuated everyday court life.

_It was madness_, he thought, giving an involuntary shudder at the recollection.

Evzen echoed his sentiments. "There were countless occasions when the royal advisers would storm Kyros' chambers demanding him to step up as regent, eventually the cries asked for him to be king. Terentia had her hands full with our sisters when I discovered those tasked with Hyacinthus' immediate care had been neglecting him."

"And where was Coridan in all this?" Cletus inquired as to the second prince.

"Coridan was busy with the army, protecting our borders and blocking any covert attempt to overthrow father. Since I was unoccupied at the moment, I took Hyacinthus to Terentia, found him a new wet nurse and from then on watched him grow." Evzen sighed. "You will forgive me if I was preferential to him?"

"How could I begrudge it of him?" Cletus replied.

Running a hand through his golden-brown hair, Evzen explained that he was not at all angry with their father. He somehow understood the position he was in at the moment he made the decision. "I do not blame him, Cletus. But I worry for our brother."

Had the fourth prince been made of weaker substance, he would have probably given his brother a pat on his back and then departed with the somewhat reassuring measure that the gods would watch over Hyacinthus. Instead, Cletus turned to his brother, a twinkle in his eye.

"I've an idea, Evzen. It's a little bold, but nevertheless, an idea."

oo00oo

Boreas was irked.

It wasn't surprising to have disgruntled worshippers at a time when Helios dips into the horizon while Selene makes her slow but grand entrance on the other end. He was dabbling in a little hobby of his when he was interrupted by one of his hounds growling.

What annoyed the North Wind was hauteur in the mortal's stance when the North Wind entered the Anemoi's temple's main hall. _Now what do we have here?_ He thought as he studied the young man before assuming a human-like appearance, seated on one of the four thrones.

"Might I inquire as to your business on sacred ground?"

Anyone would have thought it a harmless question, but if one paid close attention to the voice that spoke, one could hear the coldness of the inquiry.

The young man bowed before the North Wind. "I am inquiring as to my youngest brother's well being, my Lord."

"And what makes you think he is here?"

"I believe I speak no untruth, as Apollo is my witness, when I say that earlier this day my father was made to choose between offering my brother as a sacrifice and leaving my sisters prey."

At this, Boreas' brows rose. "Did you say 'made to choose'?"

The young man nodded.

"Choose your words wisely, third prince of Laconia, because I may just as well drown your eldest brother, abduct all your sisters and risk going against your old father's supplications," Boreas' voice edged precariously between rage and a lesser degree of patience.

Evzen stared into brown eyes that somehow whispered to him the secret wraths of the North Wind.

"I will allow you to see your brother, but know that he is not to leave this island without the collective permission of the Anemoi. He has been given as a sacrifice to the gods and it shall remain so," Boreas watched as Evzen bit his tongue to avoid arguing with the North Wind and found himself inwardly amused. "Any attempt to sweep him away from the Anemoi will bring the wrath of the gods on that person—or country."

Evzen started. _The gods strike a hard bargain,_ one of his sisters had said to him. Now he could see the truth in those words. His shoulders fell, a physical manifestation that he knew when he was defeated.

"Shall we?" Boreas motioned to one of the doors at the side of the main hall, before disappearing completely.

The fourth prince of Laconia cleared his throat before exiting through the door that would lead him to his brother.

**To be continued...**

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A/N: (^_^) YEY! Chapter 3 is out! Now onto chapter 4!


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology. I just own the following characters: Evzen, Cletus, Terentia and Galen.

A/N: I have just received my first review! *extreme happiness* I am extremely thankful to the people who continue to read my story and stick with me...even though there are times when my typographical errors have a tendency to get the better of me. Please feel free to send your thoughts on characters, et cetera. If you have questions and other such that you feel I ought to address, drop me a quick note and I swear—if it's in my power to answer (and not give away the story)—I will reply ASAP. ;)

This CHAPTER is dedicated to **aceofspades27** as thanks for sending me my first review for this story.

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The silvery moon was slowly making its way to its zenith by the time Evzen and the North Wind reached the carved oak doors of the West Wind's chambers. To Evzen, it seemed as though he had trekked through mountains and valley in order to reach his brother. He glanced at Boreas only to see that there was a playful, amused look in his brown eyes—_something that did not bode well_, Evzen reflected as Boreas pushed open the doors.

But "pushed open" was not quite the accurate term for how the North Wind opened the heavy doors. To the third prince, the door seemed to measure a span thick. And to have them thrown open without breaking a sweat was in itself an amazing feat.

Such doors they were! Carved intricately were several species of birds, Dawn herself and a shower of stars—Evzen would have taken longer to wonder at them had not the contents of the room caused him some consternation.

Standing in the middle of the private chambers, with a look of immense displeasure, was a man with hair as dark as ebony with skin that paled in comparison to the North Wind's.

But the man was not what had caught Evzen's attention. Instead, it was the figure he was carrying in his arms that made the third prince of Laconia grit his teeth to steel himself from speaking out of turn. Not that he needed to speak.

For upon setting his eyes on his brother's appearance, the North Wind's face registered a grin that was meant to annoy the West Wind. But the latter was very much distracted with the appearance of a mortal in his private chambers that he quickly ignored his elder brother's attempt at teasing—not without rewarding him with a momentary glare—before fixing a look of determination at the third prince.

"Who gave you permission to enter my private chambers?"

Evzen had never heard such a voice before. It seemed empty and cold like a barren wasteland in the winter. He noted the flash of the jet black eyes that hinted on his having overstepped propriety. He would have replied to defend himself, but that was not necessary.

"I did," the North Wind said, calmly. "Although you ought not to be so very vexed, dear brother of mine, as he happens to be a relation of _that_." He motioned to the form in his brother's arms. "Allow me to rephrase that: This is Evzen, third prince of Laconia, son of Amyclas, king of Laconia—and this," he turned to Evzen while motioning to the pale man, "is who you mortals call the West Wind—and whom the gods, amongst themselves, call 'Zephyr'."

Evzen bowed low. "Your Lordship."

The salutation was left unanswered as the West Wind turned his back on him and made as though he were retiring. He was stopped by the North Wind, who took him aside and explained Evzen's—unwanted—presence.

"He's here to see his brother, Zephyr."

"Then his father should have thought twice before sacrificing his own son" was the curt reply.

Boreas' lips gave a twitch as thought threatening to display his grin once more, but he stopped himself. "Come now, and here I was thinking you'd have probably drained all the life from the poor thing. Be benevolent as he assumes you to be—I'm certain he would not think of escaping with his brother to their ships tonight."

Zephyr's eyes narrowed. "What did you tell him?"

"I assure you I said nothing out of turn. I merely brought him here." The North Wind shook his head. "Must you have such a certainly low opinion of me?"

His younger brother cocked a dark brow.

It was then the North Wind changed his coaxing tone to a commanding one. He ordered his brother to allow the third prince a chance to see that _the sacrifice_ had not been mistreated by the Anemoi—or else.

"Or else?" the West Wind's voice was so dangerously thin that it seemed like a boulder placed precariously at the edge of a cliff in order that even the softest of sounds could cause it to fall on a mere passerby. Any other god would have been deterred by this, but the North Wind was not just any other god, he was the West Wind's eldest brother.

Even in an immortal family, there still existed a hierarchy.

"You _will_ let him see his brother, Zephyr," Boreas leaned over to whisper into his brother's ear. "Or so help me, I will see to it that Eurus will never forgive you."

Zephyr glared lengthily at his brother before the North Wind broke his gaze and informed the third prince that the West Wind would allow him some time with his brother. He conjured a golden hourglass with the purest, whitest sand and set it before the prince. "I will allow you this much to spend with you brother. Should you exceed it—I'll leave the West Wind to decide what it is he will take in exchange for his stolen time. Are we clear on this, prince Evzen?"

Evzen gave a solemn nod. _The gods strike a hard bargain_, he felt his sister's voice echo in his mind as he took Hyacinthus from the West Wind's arms. It was only in retrospect that he realized the West Wind was almost as cold as ice. For the moment, he was only occupied with seeing to his brother.

He watched as the two winds exited the room. And it wasn't until after the heavy oak doors were summoned shut by the North Wind that he felt at ease.

oo00oo

"Hi! Who goes there?" Cletus shouted as his eyes got accustomed to the darkness. The once blazing fire had now turned to ember. He was groping around for his sword when he felt his hand stayed and a familiar voice whisper hoarsely: "If you so much as try, you will have to explain to father how he lost two sons in an expedition meant to bring our eldest brother great fortune."

"By the gods, Evzen!" Cletus shook his brother's hand firmly. "I thought you had somehow gotten lost on your way to the temple that I was preparing that very speech for father for the morrow."

When his brother said nothing, Cletus felt compelled to inquire as to how their youngest brother was. "Is he safe? He isn't—"

Evzen shook his head. "No. No. Don't be ridiculous, Cletus."

"You were so deathly silent that I assumed your journey was met in unfortunate circumstances."

Evzen gave his brother a firm pat on the shoulder before dismissing his inquiry altogether. "It's best you get some rest, Cletus. We have a long voyage ahead of us and we have to leave at dawn, as father wishes for us to give our brother the good news."

oo00oo

Notus' chambers were the colour of the sky at its brightest. It had always been so as his mother had been charmed by his blue eyes from the moment he was born that she demanded of his father to have the room done so. Astraeus was nearly driven mad by his wife as the shades were either "too dark" or "too light." Finally, after much consultation with Athena and Iris, the god of the stars presented his most beloved consort with a nursery that was "just right" in colour for their second son.

The South Wind had been watching the Laconian ships ride the little waves along the Aeolian coastline that he did not hear his chambers' door open to admit a late night visitor. It was only after they slowly scraped shut that he turned to spy the East Wind with a guilty look on his face.

He gave a lethargic smile. "What, pray tell, are you doing here?"

Eurus wordlessly made his way to Notus, who was stretched by the window—his mother had commissioned a window seat for him so she sit by the window and sing lullabies to him while the watched the sky.

Alarmed, the South Wind sat up and, pulling the milder wind toward him, sat him on his lap. He let the East Wind remain silent for a few moments and was rewarded with the younger wind putting his arms around his neck.

"Has Boreas bothered you?" the mention of the oft offending elder brother produced a small smile on Eurus' lips only to disappear.

"Am I disturbing you, Notus?" a small voice finally asked after some silence.

Notus replied with an affectionate kiss on the East Wind's left temple, before pulling Eurus closer to him, assuring the gentle creature that he was neither a bother, nor a disturbance.

**To be continued...**

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A/N: I finally did it! I am so very happy with the results. Please R&R and send me your opinions! Thank you so very much!


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology. I just own the following characters: Evzen, Cletus, Terentia and Galen.

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It would have passed on as a relatively quiet morning. Helios was beginning his journey across the vast sky, his four stallions pulling his golden chariot. The creatures of Aeolia—of earth, sky or sea—were in their natural habitat, feasting on Mother Nature's gift of nourishment.

Even the Anemoi were dining in complete silence as they partook of Ambrosia and nectar. Their dining hall was located near an enormous balcony hanging over the sea surrounding Aeolia. No intricately carved oak doors surrounded the room. Instead, a fresh breeze floated around the room accompanied by a whiff of the salty water from down below.

No servants were flitting about the room as would have been the case in a normal palace where the ruler was a mortal. And besides, Eos did not cherish the thought of womenfolk surrounding her darlings when she herself was not around most of the time.

Thus the terrified scream that pierced the overpowering silence wrecked a temporary state of havoc as goblets were paused in mid-air and ambrosia scattered across the floor.

"What in the name of all things sacred is that?" an annoyed North Wind muttered.

Much to their surprise, it was the West Wind who answered their inquiries. If one could call it a reply. Zephyr got up and hurriedly left the room.

Eurus cast a half-bewildered, half-worried look at Notus, who gave the latter an affectionate pat on the head, before turning a questioning brow at their eldest brother. Boreas shrugged in response.

It wasn't until the sound of whimpers reached them that the South Wind volunteered to investigate the matter. He had not far to go when he spied an incensed West Wind severely reprimanding four cowering wind-hounds.

Notus was taken aback.

Never in his life had he seen his youngest brother dare to raise his voice against the hounds. They had been a gift to him and his eldest brother by their uncle, Perses, during one of the rare occasions the latter ventured out of his abode. To see the West Wind irate was beyond anything he expected—such that his curiosity was captured and he trained his eyesight into his brother's private chambers.

Sitting in a crumpled, shivering heap was _it_—the sacrifice Boreas had demanded in return for the supplication of Laconia's king.

_Ah_, _that would explain as much_. Unable to bear his beloved pets receiving such harsh words—even if they were from his brother—Notus felt himself obliged to speak. And speak he did, only to be rewarded with a glare from the enraged Wind.

"Your pets seem to find themselves at liberty to inspect my chambers."

The South Wind called to out two of the four hounds—rightfully, he and Boreas went in perfect halves; thus only two of the four were his. "Apeliotes. Livas."

Upon hearing their master summoning them, the two wind-hounds hurried to his side. Grateful to have escaped the piercing stare of the West Wind's dark eyes. The licked his hands when he tried to pat them, as though explaining their side of the story.

"I'm quite certain they meant no harm—"

"What meant no harm, Notus?" a clear voice asked from behind him. Apparently, the East Wind had followed him from the dining hall.

The South Wind would have replied but before he could, Eurus spied the shivering heap of flesh in Zephyr's chambers and exclaimed at this. "Is that...the..." he turned to Notus, seeking an affirmation or negation of his unfinished inquiry.

"Yes, it is" was Zephyr's decided reply before turning on his heels and entering his chambers.

Deciding that they were being dismissed from his presence, Notus took Eurus by the hand and—commanding all four wind-hounds to follow him—returned to the dining hall to face Boreas' inquiring stares.

oo00oo

Zephyr approached the shivering figure cautiously lest he set the entire place alight with another scream. When he reached Hyacinthus' side, he quickly looked him over, making sure to check for bruises or paw scratches. Fortunately, none were visible.

Nevertheless, he had to be certain. He reached to take hold of the young prince's arm but, to his surprise, his hand was slapped away.

"Who do you think—" The West Wind shook Hyacinthus, hard. He would have shaken him even harder had he not realized that the latter was fighting to get away from his grip.

Upon realizing this, Zephyr released Amyclas' youngest son who, gathering the fallen blanket around him, ran toward the only window in the West Wind's chambers. "Take one step nearer and I'll jump."

The West Wind's eyes widened in surprise: _Is he threatening to jump? To his death?_ Biting his tongue to prevent himself from berating the mortal, Zephyr thought: _What sort of idiotic act is this? _Who but a person with claim to insanity would do such a thing? Standing up, he watched as the Laconian prince slowly leaned backward out the window.

Watched as Hyacinthus said how much he disliked Aeolia. How much he wished he had never come with his father to seek the gods' blessing for his brother. How much he hated the very being he could see standing before him. And how much he wished Hades would just spring up and take him to the Underworld, no questions asked.

"I don't want to be here..." Zephyr saw the tears spilling before the _sacrifice_—as Boreas called it—crumpled into a sobbing heap by the window. "I want to go home..."

oo00oo

A soft knock on the door interrupted the West Wind's thoughts and brought him back to the present. Looking up, he found that Eurus was standing by the doorway, a penitent look on his face.

"Eurus, is there something I can help you with?"

The East Wind ran to his brother and, burying his face in the latter's chest, began apologizing about his behaviour that morning in a tumble of words that his brother had to stop him.

"Who told you your behaviour was cheeky?" Zephyr, although surprised by the sudden yet profuse apology, gazed down at his brother's face. Even though he was younger than Eurus, the West Wind seemed to tower over his elder brother.

"I thought I must have done something...to offend you."

Having his masked his astonishment until then, Zephyr failed to rein it in and thus showed his brother how he was very much amazed by such a conclusion.

At this, Eurus replied: "Was it not my behaviour that displeased you?"

Zephyr shook his head. "It most certainly was not, Eurus, although I find your half-formed conclusion quite interesting—to say the least."

The East Wind turned a pretty shade of pink at his brother's subtle chide. "But you did not return to breakfast."

The West Wind motioned to the four-post bed in his room. The gauzy white curtains that surrounded it showed a vague yet somewhat familiar form lying in it.

"Is _it_ sleeping?"

Zephyr smiled, warmly. One could only admire the worried concern in Eurus' voice. It was a stark contrast from Notus' condescending tone and Boreas' overbearing pitch. "_It _is."

Eurus apologized. "I am very sorry, brother. What's _its_ name?"

The West Wind gave a low chuckle before whispering Hyacinthus' name into his brother's ear.

**To be continued...**

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A/N: Ha! Setting is perfect! I'm happy everyone's enjoying the story and—so far—I haven't gotten any angry, pissed or furious reviews. Thank you very much for the continued support!


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I was up and about but then things happened and I couldn't garner the writing mode I needed to get this chapter done. I've dealt with all the distractions—for the moment—so I'm commencing with another chapter to my story. Did I mention that I received a scathing remark for this story? (laughs) Even so, I appreciate the person who posted his/her remarks on my "Reviews" page—though his/her name escapes me at the moment. At least I can now tell which particular group my writing style is fine-tuned for. Thank you very much for that.

This chapter is dedicated to **canislupis13 **(please tell me if I got your name wrong). I hope you enjoy reading this.

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Zeus, the lightning god, would have passed on as the most famous of the gods had his son by Leto the Titaness been born. But as fate would have it, the father was bested by the ruddy light of the god of poetry and music. Fortunately, unlike his own father before him, Zeus felt not the least bit slighted by this particular son of his. For all the honesty that his paternal heart could muster, he almost burst with pride the moment he laid eyes on his son.

Thus, Apollo felt the privilege of being Zeus' son—acting as though he were the first born son instead of his half-brother Hephaestus. Not that this latter god felt any envy. As the smith-god, he had many responsibilities that lay at his door, and not wishing to be bothered by other—unimportant—duties, he relinquished all activities of which required the charm and smiles that Apollo was more than willing to bestow on his fellow gods.

Granted that he almost possessed the rights of first born, he had turned out, for lack of a better word, "quite spoilt" as his half-sister, the goddess of wisdom—and she was never off mark when describing her sibling s(half or otherwise). He had the strangest habit of appearing at his own doorstep at the oddest hours of the night, much to his mother's chagrin. The result would be that he would rise quite late in the morning, much to Artemis' irritation.

And, as luck would have it, this turned out to be one of the many mornings that the god of poetry and music found himself assailed by his sibling who poked his with an arrow.

"Rise and shine, Apollo!"

Mumbling something about having gone in at some odd hour, Apollo buried himself even deeper into his blankets. Unfortunately, Artemis pulled them off him and threw them on the floor.

Hands on her hips, the hunter goddess smirked. "And that's my problem because? Get up you sad bag of lazy!"

"Well excuse me for having a good life when the sun goes down!" her twin roared after she delivered a solid kick to his leg, for good measure. "Can't you leave a bloody god in peace?"

"Oh most certainly, your divine laziness!" Artemis gave a flamboyant bow before bursting into laughter.

"What is it?" Apollo glared at his sister.

"My, my, if it isn't the god of poetry and music still in bed at this late of an hour," came a condescending observation from the doorway. It was followed by more laughter from Artemis' side of the room, which Apollo quickly dismissed to round on the uninvited guest who had disturbed his chances of returning to bed.

"Hermes, have you got nothing better to do than to poke your nose into someone else's business?" he yelled at the culprit.

The messenger-god held his hands up in mock surrender before adding: "You forgot, didn't you?"

Apollo blinked. "Forgot what?"

At this Hermes turned to Artemis and said: "I told you he'd forget" and the reply was a good-natured shrug before the Huntress turned to her brother and, as her unique way of adding salt to his wounds, said: "We might as well leave you, seeing as you aren't dressed and haven't a single piece of equipment ready."

Hermes laughed. It was of general knowledge in Olympia that the god of medicine despised being left out of his sister's plans. They were twins and, as it was, they had a special bond and were closer to each other than to any other of their half-siblings.

"You promised Artemis you would go hunting with her in Aeolia, remember?" the messenger-god supplied helpfully.

The dawning of realization on Apollo's face was more than enough to send even louder peals of laughter from the room.

"You should have told me sooner!" he yelled at his half-brother before disappearing behind the screen to dress. "Hand me my belt, Hermes, instead of laughing like an idiot."

Zeus' youngest divine son good-naturedly did so, and in minutes, Apollo was ready to join his sibling on her hunting expedition although he had rather he'd been allowed to grab some precious hours of rest. He had a moment of displeasure at being told that Hermes was also to be made a number of their hunting party, but seeing as his sister had already made up her mind, he said nothing. He _did_ glare at Hermes' back for some minutes though.

They made their way to the stables where two of Demeter's mighty steeds had been saddled up for them. Upon setting his eyes on their mode of transportation, Apollo questioned the number of rides.

"We weren't sure if you would actually wake up, so I only had them saddle two horses. Besides, I don't really like hunting while riding," Artemis shrugged before Hermes offered to help her up on one of the stallions. But the offer was cut short by another inquiry from her twin.

"And what if I had not woken in time to join you? What would you have done then?"

"I'd have them saddle only one" was his sister's reply before she was hoisted up by her half-brother, who handed Apollo the reins of her horse as soon as he had made sure his half-sister was seated properly and was in no danger of falling anytime soon.

"I'd go to bed earlier if I were you," Hermes whispered to Apollo as he passed the reins before mounting the other steed.

Apollo mounted behind his sister before ordering the steed to a proper pace next to Hermes' ride. They sped across the sky at a proper pace toward the island realm of Dawn's sons.

oo00oo

The island of Aeolia was abuzz with life. Breezes of different gradients were blowing all over its forests that even the animals of the wood were quite confused as to the true state of the weather for the day. One family of rabbits, having been assailed by a strong wind in the midst of breakfast, were left wondering whether or not they were supposed to be out at such an hour.

A howl echoed from a far side of the island. It was followed by several wild, heavy steps of horses galloping toward the direction of the howl.

"Kaikias, cease!" thundered the North Wind when he arrived on scene, where he discovered that the howling beast was his own Wind-Hound.

As though right on cue, two other horses burst into the clearing carrying the South Wind on one and the West Wind on the other. Three of the Wind-Hounds gathered round the horses' heels, causing one of the horses' to neigh loudly in protest.

The beast was silenced by its rider before he addressed his brother. "Well?"

Boreas shook his head.

"What do you mean?" the South Wind demanded a second time.

"It's only a part of _it_," Boreas explained.

"WHICH PART?" Notus bellowed, to the surprise of his elder brother.

Boreas handed the torn piece of cloth to his youngest brother before mounting his horse. "You surprise me, Notus. I thought you didn't want _it_ around?"

The South Wind gave a sharp order addressed to his Wind-Hounds, before addressing Boreas. "Oh, make no mistake. I still do not relish the thought of having to lay eyes on such a useless piece of mortality."

"Then why ask?"

"To make sure I tear up a unique part when we find _it_." Notus reined his horse in the direction that his hounds were running and forced it to continue with the search. When he had disappeared, the North Wind turned to the West Wind.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean it," he said in an assuring manner.

"If he doesn't, then I'll take the liberty of doing exactly that when we find _him_" was the reply he was given before Zephyr disappeared after the South Wind and his baying hounds.

Boreas chuckled.

He understood that the South Wind was indeed furious to even be part of the search but had acquiesced after Eurus had asked in such gentle tones. It was the West Wind that both surprised and amused him.

_They had just finished breakfast when the Wind-Hounds broke into the room, barking loudly. They went to their respective owners and informed them of having seen someone disappearing into the wood. The West Wind did not need to be told twice, nor did he finish his brother's translation of the dogs' story. He saddled his horse and quickly disappeared into the wood in pursuit. _

"_Whatever's in the forest can have him," was Notus' declaration, but was reprimanded by the East Wind._

"_Notus, how could you!"_

_The South Wind had looked a tad bit sheepish at Eurus' tone. "He shouldn't have run into the forest then!"_

"_Even so, you must not ill-wish him!" Eurus pulled both his elder brothers to the stables where he requested them to help their youngest brother. _

_Notus crossed his arms across his chest. "I don't see why I should. I already gave you my opinion on this nonsense."_

_When the East Wind's expression changed into one that threatened to cry, the South Wind hastily retracted, mounted and whistled for his dogs before riding off. _

"_You will find him, won't you, Boreas?" Eurus looked up into his eyes with such hope that Boreas found himself promising to do so. "Be careful."_

Another smile played across the North Wind's lips at this recollection. But they did not have far to go, he realized as he ordered his dogs to proceed after the West Wind. They had scoured a good two-thirds of the island...which meant...

"Kaikias! Skeiron! Follow me!" and much to his Wind-Hounds confusion, Boreas sped in a different direction altogether, riding as though for his life.

oo00oo

"Will you tell me again why we are hunting here when there are other forests in the mainland that may suit your wild pursuit?" Apollo asked when their hunting party landed on the cliff that stood at the edge of a very thickly knitted forest.

Artemis rolled her eyes. "For the nth time, Apollo, I've told you already: I like hunting here." Noticing that Hermes seemed to be studying the forest intently, she inquired as to what had him seemingly preoccupied.

"Something seems a bit off."

"What do you mean?" Apollo notched an arrow. "Something is always off, or have you forgotten that Eos' unpredictable sons reside here?"

"No, that's not it." Hermes shook his head. "It's as though someone's begun hunting."

Artemis gave Hermes a soft punch on the shoulder. "Don't be silly, Hermes. I already informed Auntie about this hunting expedition, so I'm most certain she's already told our cousins about our arrival."

Apollo glanced at the wide expanse of trees before them. Hermes' surmise wasn't quite far off the mark. In fact, he was quite near it. Something did not seem right, as though the trees were tightening ranks amongst themselves so as not to allow intruders in—or any living being out.

Just as he had arrived to such a conclusion, Hermes gave a shout as he pointed.

Running toward the edge of the forest was a—Apollo thought his eyes were deceiving him, he couldn't say for certain—mortal with rich dark hair and eyes that could drown a thousand ships! But before any of them could make a move, they saw a pale arm grab the mortal by the waist and pull it away from the edge of the forest. It reminded him of an eagle catching its prey in one swoop.

They heard a wild gallop disappear into the heart of the forest, followed by blood-curdling howls, and it was sometimes before they could move.

"Just what was that?" Artemis exclaimed.

"I'm not for certain, but it seemed like—" Hermes started.

"A hunt." Apollo replied. _But such an unnatural hunt!_

__**To be continued...**


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

A/N: So we're now on chapter 7! (_) I've been going around reading and trying to come up with something creative for a new chapter—I didn't realize it would seem like forever. Once again, many thanks to the readers who have put up with my story—I apologize if it seems like it will last forever. Don't worry, if anything I'll have it go on for a decent length and then sum it all up. I'm thinking of doing a Q&A after the 10th chapter. That way, readers get to send in their questions, and I answer them (of course, without giving out the end...YET). Tell me if it's a good idea or not!

This chapter is dedicated to all my readers for November! Hope you guys enjoy!

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A heavy thud echoed through the wood, followed by a yell from a member of the hunting party of three.

"If I'd known that the game here was this elusive, I wouldn't have come!" an exasperated Hermes reflected. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?" He turned to his half-sister with an accusatory look.

Artemis shrugged. "It's not my fault you don't hunt when you have the time."

"Touché, dearest sister of mine," was the messenger-god's reply before giving the third of their party a strong pat on the shoulder. "What's the matter with you? You haven't let fly a single arrow since we got here, Apollo. I'm beginning to think you did not wish to come in the first place."

The god of poetry glared at his half-brother. "I did not say that."

"Aye, you didn't. But you look it." Artemis leaned on her bow. "Something's bothering you, or my guess is amiss."

Apollo sighed before running a hand through his hair. "I find it a tad bit disconcerting that you two don't find it odd to run into such a scenario the moment we arrived."

Hermes, having retrieved his arrow from a tree trunk, looked up. "You said so yourself: Eos' rambunctious sons live here. Taking that into consideration, there really isn't much to be left to the imagination."

"I didn't say 'rambunctious,' Hermes, and you know it. And really! Just because those ever wild quartet run about here parts does not mean that anything and everything that happens on this island ought to be because of them."

Artemis exchanged glances with Hermes. "And what, pray tell, do you suggest we do, brother? Barge into the Anemoi's palace—and we know how _that_ gets on Notus' nerves—and demand or report that something on this island is not right with absolutely no proof but what we saw?"

"Exactly!"

Hermes raised a brow. "You _must_ have gone daft, Apollo, or have you forgotten that the North and the South—but most especially the South—Wind told you that the next time you darkened their doorway, they'd—"

"Yes, yes. I do remember that, but I doubt they'd be able to act on it," the god of music scowled.

"I wouldn't be too sure on that one," Artemis interjected. "I heard Aunt Astreria telling mother about the time those two destroyed a city...because Eurus had not received his portion in the sacrifice. The people starved and those two would have gone on and done more had not their then baby brother said anything in defense of the very city that overlooked him."

Hermes nodded in agreement. He had heard of this story from their father, Zeus. The king of the gods had heard the appeals and cries of the people. Just when he was about to send for Demeter, in order that she would cause a return of growth to the fields, the two brothers appeared before him surrounded by stormy gales. They informed the lightning god that should he decide to help the city, he would forever be in disservice to _their _side of the family.

"And no one really can afford that, Hermes," Zeus had said. "So though you may disagree with them or their methods, you sometimes need to stand aside."

Apollo laughed. "You have got to be pulling my leg, Artemis! I doubt that's even possible. Certainly the Fates or father had something to say in the matter."

"Oh, the Fates had a field day—cutting threads of Life left and right. Uncle Hades was also in good cheer," Hermes numbered the parties whom the brothers had been of good service that particular day. "Not to mention, they took a thorn from Athena's side. Some of the inhabitants had desecrated her temple earlier on in the year—taking liberties with everything. As you can see, they are of great help to us."

"It's best to leave it be," Artemis added. "I doubt they'd barge into our respective residences had they caught something amiss in, say Delos, for example."

Apollo rolled his eyes. A tendency to exaggeration surely ran in his family's blood else why would his own siblings dissuade him from such a simple matter—of course, taking into consideration that he _had_ done something previously to earn the ire of the South Wind. _But it bothers me_, he thought. _What is going on?_

oo00oo

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

The North Wind feigned hearing the incessant cries of his 'prey' as he half-dragged, half-carried Hyacinthus through the palace.

"The things I do for family," he muttered as the demands to be set free echoed loudly throughout the empty structure. He made his way to his youngest brother's chambers, unceremoniously dumping the thrashing lad on Zephyr's bed.

"YOU CRUEL BEAST!" the emerald eyes flashed with hatred.

Boreas stifled a grin. "I'll take that as a compliment, although I do not relish the thought of being called a beast."

At this, the seventh prince of Laconia flew at the North Wind and would have been somewhat successful in scratching his face had not a strong gust of wind threw him back on the bed. It was followed by a stinging slap across the face, causing him to cough up some blood.

It would have been followed by another one had not the East Wind clung onto his brother's arm, saying: "Zephyr, stop it! You might kill him!" before turning to Hyacinthus to ask: "Are you alright?"

"Unhand me, Eurus!" The West Wind threw his brother aside—luckily, Notus arrived in time to catch him—and, turning to the runaway who had caused such a ruckus, he delivered another stinging blow to Hyacinthus' cheek.

"YOU IDIOT!" even Boreas winced as Zephyr roared. Eurus struggled against Notus, who was holding the East Wind back.

Hot tears streamed down Hyacinthus' faced. His cheek was quite numb and somehow his lip and the inside of his mouth had been cut. Still, Boreas had to admire the lad for being able to glare at Zephyr with such vehemence. And those emerald eyes were such a sight to see. They flashed with all the possible hatred and dislike that a single mortal could muster and still appeared as luminous as ever.

"Really, Zephyr, I don't think that's—" Boreas began, watching as the West Wind drag the seventh prince out the room.

"Shut up."

"Shutting up," the North Wind followed, as did their two other brothers, until Zephyr, upon reaching the dungeon, threw the lad into a cell before chaining him to the floor. No one dared to stop the West Wind from what he was doing. Anyone could see that his foul mood had been awakened and no one wished to bear the brunt of it, so they simply stood and watched as Zephyr locked the cell, turned and left.

Eurus peered into the dark cell, his heart filled with pity for the poor creature who was now its inhabitant. "He's bleeding, Notus."

The South Wind nodded. "It's best you leave that to Zephyr."

"But—"

"No buts, Eurus."

"Notus is right, Eurus," Boreas added. "I think it's best if you left this to me. Why don't you go see if Zephyr is blowing the leaves of the forest's trees instead?"

At this, the East Wind was ushered out by his older brother, leaving the North Wind alone with Amyclas' youngest son.

Boreas watched as the lad hugged his knees and buried his face, crying, sobbing. He wasn't really quite sure what it was the mortal was doing as hardly any member of his family had ever taken the time to weep. The slow rise and fall of the hunched figure's shoulders moved him to some amount of pity as he was capable of feeling.

He waited until the cries had died down before leaving, inwardly thinking: _Perhaps I was a bit too rash…_

oo00oo

"You're back early." Apollo looked up to see Aphrodite's blue eyes watching him from the corner of the room. "I'd expected you wouldn't be here 'til late in the evening."

A smile brightened the poet-god's face. "Hello, 'dite. May I ask what brings you to my humble abode?" He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he was wont to do with all other family members with the exception of Athena, who called it despicably childish of a god his age.

"I was hoping to ask why you didn't invite me to join your hunting party."

"Much as I would love to let you join us, dearest 'dite, it wasn't my hunting expedition. It was Artemis' and I wouldn't want to get her annoyed so early in the morning," Apollo explained as he took of his cloak. "I swear to you, if I didn't annoy her so much by waking late I'd have asked her to let you join."

"Liar," the goddess of beauty patted him on the cheek. "How is it that you can lie with such a handsome face?"

"You wound me, 'dite. I _am_ the god of truth, you know."

Aphrodite shrugged. "It makes no difference."

The poet-god lifted one of her hands to his lips. "But it does, 'dite."

"Prove it." She batted her lashes, slowly, and her blue eyes feigned innocence as they surveyed Apollo's comely face.

"I bring you news of Aeolia."

At this the goddess of love gave her half-brother a quick hug before inquiring as to the nature of his news. "Does it concern…Zephyr?" she asked.

"I'm not certain if it does, but something's afoot."

"Oh," a hint of disappointment. "Is that all the news there is from Aeolia?"

Apollo smiled. It was the charming, beguiling and disarming smile that he was very famous for. Even Aphrodite found herself strongly caught by it, but this did not deter her from obtaining the answers she wanted.

The goddess of beauty pinched Apollo's cheek. "I'm guessing there is more?"

Tucking her hand on his arm, he proposed a stroll around the garden: "So I may tell you more of the little adventure we stumbled on while on our hunting trip."

**To be continued**

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A/N: I'm so sorry the update took forever! I had lots of activities for the past week and was totally swamped. But I hope you guys enjoy it!


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

A/N: Okay. I took quite a break from writing this because of two things. The first one, being of a personal nature, I shall not divulge but the second reason is curiosity. I wanted to see how many readers would stick to it during this short spell of not updating. I'm amazed to see that people are still reading it—and of course, I certainly am happy that they are reading it. So, I'm here with another chapter to this story. Wow! Chapter...8! I hope you continue to enjoy this piece.

This chapter is dedicated to all my readers for December 2010.

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Eros, the god of love, knew how precious his position was in the family—and he was aware of it, since he was a young babe. The moment his grandfather laid eyes on him, the king of the gods had laughed in a nervous, sort of cornered manner before pronouncing that "I find it hard to believe but I have a strange feeling this little cherub will rule us all!" Of course, after some protests from his ever-virginal aunts, Zeus modified his pronouncement to suit them...and everyone else.

But it was quite evident that he spoke the truth.

Eros enjoyed a charmed childhood. He matured into a god under the guidance of—uncannily—his three chaste aunts: Hestia, Artemis and Athena. This was not to say his mother had not played some part in his upbringing. She most certainly had.

It was Aphrodite who sang him to sleep many a starless night. It was the very same goddess who kissed his bumps and bruises to make it all feel better. And it was the goddess of love herself who brought him to the many places where he played and had fun.

Of course, it was a given that his mother would not always be there. Her office is not one to be taken likely and Aphrodite would spend countless hours ironing out affairs of the heart, answering various petitions and matchmaking the many inhabitants of the earth; which was how he came under the guidance of his three aunts.

Athena and Artemis were in a very animated discussion on just how foolish men were when they say a little Eros sitting at the doorstep of his mother's abode, waiting for her return. Although they were chaste and pure, this was not to say babes did not touch the hearts of the Three. On the contrary, when Athena laid eyes on him, she picked up the little godling and tossed him until his hair was quite messy and he was squealing with joy.

When all the tossing had stopped, Eros found himself enraptured by Artemis's silver bow. In an attempt to grab hold of it, he had almost fallen out of Athena's arms—luckily, she was quite prepared to deal with his energy. They saw that his interest could amount to some potential and after a long time persuading Aphrodite, he was allowed to take up archery.

He was quite the apt pupil. And he did make several mistakes: one of which was shooting an arrow into his Aunt Hestia's home. It went straight through the window and embedded itself into her wall. Fortunately, she did not scold him but laughed and mentioned how pleased she was that her nephew was doing something productive with his time before giving him a treat. Thus it became his sort of tradition to always drop by his Aunt Hestia's after practice to see if she had any sweet titbits in store for him—and this continued well on until he had obtained his office as god of love.

That particular morning, he had been requested by his Aunt Artemis to do her a favour. A hunter was pestering his nymphs and she wanted something done about it.

"I don't care if she dies of a broken heart—although personally I find that really ludicrous—just make sure I don't see him skulking anywhere near them. Else the next time I do find him around, I shall deal with the matter" was what his aunt had said. And knowing Artemis' calibre, one needn't consult his Uncle Apollo to know the answer as to how she would deal with it.

He had an awfully hard time waiting in the brush for the mortal hunter, and with a quick pull of his bow, Eros had put an end to all the amorous feelings the mortal had for the Huntress' retinue. Feeling a tad bit guilty for having shot the arrow of indifference that put an end to it all, he hurried home to Olympus to see his Aunt Hestia in the hope that she had something that would distract him from his guilt.

Imagine his disappointment in finding that his aunt had left Olympus that day in order to attend to some matters regarding her temple in one of the many city-states. Left to deal with his guilt, he had no choice but to return home.

_Perhaps mother will be home, _he thought to himself as he walked toward Aphrodite's room. He stopped at the door and knocked. When no beckoning voice was heard, he decided to take a peek. Opening the door very quietly, he peered at the room.

And what a state it was in!

There were broken pieces of pottery strewn across the floor. Torn fabrics of almost every kind were scattered all over the place. Even broken—if not ruined jewelry—were in all parts of the room. Without meaning to, Eros found himself entering his mother's chambers.

"Mother, are you in here?" he called out softly.

He was rewarded with a glass vase flying in his direction. He sidestepped and managed to avoid being hit. Instead the poor wall fell victim to another harsh blow. Looking up, he saw his beautiful mother in a state of both surprise and shock. It had just dawned on the goddess how she could have almost marred her son's face with a simple act.

"Eros!" she cried before running to embrace him. "Please forgive your poor mamá for her silliness."

The god of love hugged his mother back, assuring her that he would certainly forgive her before asking her what had led to her room being left in shambles. "Has anything been stolen?"

Aphrodite shook her head. "No, no. Nothing has been stolen, dear. Nor has anything been missing…I was simply having a moment—" at this the goddess of love faltered as she gazed about her chambers. "I do beg pardon, dear. You should not have seen this—" She faltered again.

Eros noticed that something was not right. Even his mother's hair was in a state of semi-disarray. "Has someone upset you, mother?"

And right on cue, Aphrodite's tears began to spill. Eros wiped them away for his mother as she was too busy angrily muttering about "a fool" who dared to deny her. Well, she'd show him. She wasn't the goddess of love and sexual desire for nothing.

The god of love was confused. Who was this "fool" his mother was so vexed about? And what had "he", granting it was a male, done to reduce her into such a distracted goddess? "Mother, ought I to leave you to your thoughts?"

Aphrodite looked up, and all the bitterness seemed to fall from her face when she laid eyes on her son.

"Oh my! I must apologize, my dearest son. Appearing before you in such a state, and then moving to hysterics at the next moment—how I must have shrunk in your esteem of me!" the goddess of love gave her son a weak smile.

Eros shook his head. "Do not worry, mother. You still are very beautiful—even when you're angry."

Aphrodite kissed her son's cheek. "Flatterer," she said, but Eros could see that she was nonetheless pleased with the compliment that he had really meant. "I must clean this mess up before Hephaestus comes home. He will not like see this place looking like his workhouse."

As she began to pick up some of the scattered bits and pieces about her, Aphrodite stopped at a small vial she saw lying on the ground. Fortunately, this particular bottled had landed on some of her clothes, which was why it had not met the same fate at the many pots and vases in the room. She stared at it for some moments, trying to remember its contents.

Eros watched as she made the dark reddish purple liquid in the bottle swirl around before her expression brightened. Perhaps his mother had remembered the name of the bottle's contents, he thought to himself as he continued to pick up some of the broken pottery and glass, lest his mother's feet be wounded by them.

He would have been able to finish had not his mother ordered him to stop what he was doing. "Instead," she said with a charming smile on her face, "I have something I want you to do for me."

Seeing as it seemed to put her in a good mood, Eros listened to his mother's request as she whispered it confidingly into his ear.

At some point of the instruction, he baulked.

"Are you certain, mother, you would like for that to happen?" he asked her with his eyes.

Aphrodite would remember that look in her son's eyes for all eternity to come. It was the very first time he had questioned her decision, nor would it be the last. But at that very moment all she did was give him an affectionate pat on the cheek before handing him the vial and saying: "I am most certain, my darling cherub. Now go do as I ask you to."

Eros kissed his mother good-bye before leaving her chambers unaware he was about to let loose all chaos in the gods' realm after such a long period of relative peace.

**To be continued…

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A/N: To be honest, I didn't think I'd be able to pull this chapter off…but I did! *cheers* I hope you all enjoy it. Please review so I at least know what you think of the story so far!


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek mythology. I only own several characters in this story.

A/N: Hello, my dear readers! I apologize for the delay of this chapter. I have been most busy with a lot of things and like most non-professional writers, have other things that occupy my daily existence. That said, I would like to thank all my readers who have been constant and stayed with me throughout the whole thing—even though I left them hanging on chapter 8.

I am dedicating this chapter to **bookwormgrl101, Earthly Wind **, and **Fly With Converse** (please tell me if I spelled your name correctly).

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He wasn't quite certain how long he had sat there wallowing in the miserable lot he was fated to suffer. In fact, he wasn't quite certain when he had stopped crying and had taken to staring out the only window in that dismally dark place. When Selene rose high in the sky, traversing the wide expanse of the heavens, moonlight crept into the dungeon and Hyacinthus felt comforted by the thought that someone the Moon herself felt pity at his predicament.

_What have I done to deserve such a fate?_ He thought to himself.

He had lost his mother at a tender young age, was raised by an overprotective father only to be given away to the gods in order to guarantee the safe passage of his eldest brother to meet his betrothed. Of course he had been a naughty, mischievous child—had he not almost driven Terentia to her wits end with all his capers?—but was not every child of the same nature?

"I'm not an evil person..." he murmured the words that seemed to be his only straw of comfort.

"Whoever said you were?"

Had it been an aged Hyacinthus that sat in that cell, he would have most probably suffered of shock and surrendered his Life string to the fates themselves. But as it was a young Hyacinthus that sat there, the reaction was quite different.

He sprung up to his feet and hid himself in the darkest side of the dungeon cell, keeping his eyes wide open—looking for a trace of the voice's beginnings. "Who goes there?" he asked with a hint of a quiver in his voice.

He felt a quick movement and rustling of clothes before he found himself beholding the appearance of a very pale man whose dark hair was as black as night. His eyes seemed as though they were wrought of the purest grey as they seemed to perceive Hyacinthus' form—even in the darkest side of the cell.

The man stood in the pool of moonlight that bore down into the room through the window and the effect of the moonlight on his skin made Hyacinthus wish he could close his eyes. The brightness was quite painful to the eyes, but he was astounded that pry his eyes from the guest he could not.

"Even if I told you who I was, Hyacinthus of Laconia, you would not know me," he then spoke. "But because you asked, I shall tell you my name."

Unsure of whether to speak or not, Hyacinthus waited until the former spoke.

"I am Perses."

"Perses...?" Wild thoughts ran through Hycinthus' mind. Wasn't Perseus the name of the warrior who slew the gorgon Medusa? Would he now set her head before him so that he would turn to stone? What a horrid fate this was!

It was dreadfully unpleasant for Hyacinthus to discover that it seemed as though his guest for the evening seemed to read his thoughts as though it were an open scroll for he spoke again, "You are mistaken in supposing that Perseus and I are one and the same—although he is my nephew, albeit the relation is quite distant."

Nephew? Amyclas's youngest son found himself very perplexed. If this man was the great warrior Perseus' uncle...he would have to have been the brother of the warrior's mother. Another glance at the being told Hyacinthus that this was not the case. There was something inhuman about this person. There could be no other explanation for the relation except the suggestion that Perses was a...

"You're an Immortal!" Hyacinthus whispered hoarsely.

The god of destruction's face did not betray the amusement that running through his mind at the pronouncement of a quite terrified mortal. Instead, he gave a firm assent that indeed he was an Immortal.

It did not amaze him that the young prince began to quake in fear and murmur almost inaudible phrases as "please...don't harm me...I beg you..." He was quite used to the effect such pronouncements had on mortals. Wasting no time to comfort the Hyacinthus with the thought that he had appeared not to destroy him, he took several steps toward Hyacinthus.

With every step Perses took toward him, the fear and dread that came over Hyacinthus doubled. He shut his eyes tight, not wishing to witness it. By the time the god of destruction had reached him, Hyacinthus had sunk to floor dead faint.

A rare smile played on the lips of the pale god as he lifted Hyacinthus into his arms. "You are quite fortunate, Hyacinthus..." he murmured before a dark cloud covered the Moon's silvery light.

When the cloud had passed, the comforting light that shined down from the heavens crept into the dungeon cell through the window as though searching for something in the dark confinement.

It was empty.

oo00oo

Zephyr dismounted from his horse. He had been spending most of his time outside Aeolia for the past ten days. He had needed the time away from his brothers although Eurus had looked pitifully saddened over the thought. Fortunately, Notus had managed to distract Eurus's thoughts and Zephyr received no tearful requests from his brother to return home.

It would have been but a natural thing to proceed to his fair cousin's abode and spent some time with his rarely seen relatives as he was wont to do whenever he left the island. Unfortunately, his aunt had decided to go on a long visit to her sister's, the titaness Leto, and had taken the beautiful Hecate with her.

Thus, he had gone and spent the next ten days at his mother's home in the company of his parents and his younger brothers, the twins.

His father, being of a quieter nature, asked him no questions. Instead, Astraeus looked at his son before disappearing to his tower. His mother was a different story. The moment she saw him she remarked at how changed he looked.

"You've aged, Zephy..." she said as he hugged her. "Has something happened?"

"No, mother," he replied, softly.

Eos pursed her lips—and although she was fully aware that he had lied to her as the true nature of the events that had brought him to her door—she kissed his head of dark hair and welcomed him home. And it was in her company that he spent most of his time.

The twins were glad to see their brother. They rarely ever had a chance to see the Anemoi as the latter resided in an island of quite some distance, while the former were perpetually their mother's darling babies. Eos would not allow them to travel such a distance and would constantly fret over the thought of them being injured.

As soon as Zephyr had arrived, they took him to their own special tower which Astraeus had had constructed by Hephaestus. In it Zephyr was to find out that the two had began to show early signs of shining—something they had probably inherited from their father.

They brought out their toys and showed it to him and he marvelled at the many things his brothers amused themselves with. _If only Boreas had something equally amusing to toy with_, he found himself thinking when Esosphorus had placed in his hands a silver duck that had been given to him by the smith-god on one of the times he had come to visit Astraeus.

Thus his days were spent amusing the twins and taking them out to see the world—certainly, with his mother's permission and her many calls of caution.

On one of these occasions, he was quite preoccupied in his mind that he had accidentally pricked himself with a piece of broken shell. Hesperus had looked up and saw his absent-minded elder brother's finger bleeding quickly dropped the "pretty things" (shells) he had been collecting and ran to Zephyr's side. Taking the West Wind's hand, he exclaimed: "Zephy has wounded himself!"

"It seems I have," the youngest of the Anemoi replied, quite oblivious to the pain. "I'll—what are you doing, Hesperus?"

Zephyr was quite surprised when Hesperus kissed his finger, but the latter looked up and said: "Mama always kisses Hesperus when he falls down."

"I'm sure she does, Hesperus, but I'm your brother. Do you not think that a tad bit...it's gone!" Surveying his hand, Zephyr had found that the wound had disappeared. "Where did you learn that, Hesperus?"

The elder of the twins beamed happily pleased that he had surprised his elder brother. "Mama says it is Hesperus's special gift," he said before running off to Esosphorus to resume his interrupted search for "pretty things".

"Special gift, huh..." Zephyr murmured as he watched his brothers who had abandoned their search of shells and were now jumping in the waves with wild shrieks of laughter.

It was when he had deposited the sleeping twins into his mother's waiting arms that he asked her about Hesperus's gift.

"Isn't it absolutely lovely?" his mother said with a smile as she tucked the twins to bed. "Your father was very pleased when he found out."

"And Esosphorus?" Zephyr inquired as Eos kissed her little cherubs. "Does he have the gift too?"

His mother sighed as she took him by the arm and led him out of the twins' room.

"Ought I to be worried, mother?"

Eos smiled in what the gods referred to as her rosy pink expression. "Oh no, Zephy. There is no need for you to worry. Esosphorus is equally gifted...although between the two, I am not quite certain who has the better gift."

The West Wind's puzzled look gave Eos reason for laughter. He looked sombre and confused at the same time and it brought back memories of the many times in his youth that the expression crept onto his face. "Your brothers seem to both have some ability to take away wounds. Hesperus, the little dear, can remove the physical manifestation of the pain. Your wound is an example of it. Darling Esosphorus on the other hand can remove the feeling of pain."

Zephyr nodded, comprehending all that his mother had told him. It would indeed be confusing as to who had the better gift. But was it not possible to remove both? He asked his mother.

Eos studied her son's face. How she wished that Zephyr had not inherited her husband's knack of hiding what it was he really felt behind the mask of a calm face! She gave him a gentle pat on his cheek before saying: "Dearest, one way or the other, it will hurt. Hesperus will take away the wound, but the pain will still be there. Esosphorus can take away the pain, but the scar will remain. If it were to happen to you, which would you prefer?"

The West Wind pondered on this question even as his mother bid him a good night with a kiss—although she would not subject him to the humiliation of being tucked in—even by his ever youthful mother. She did, however, manage to distract him from his ponders when she stopped at his doorway on her way out and said: "I'll love you always, Zephy."

"So will I, mother," he replied, softly before turning to his side and falling asleep.

And now here he was, back in Aeolia—at the dead of the night. He had not wished to arrive late in the afternoon as it would mean that Boreas would be prowling about the grounds like a restless beast.

"Home so late, nephew?"

His horse reared then fled into the darkness of the forest as a terrifying dark presence made itself known. Standing atop the open terrace overlooking the garden was his father's youngest brother.

"You've frightened my horse, uncle."

Perses, who rarely laughed in the presence of other gods beyond his own wife and daughter, gave a low chuckle. "It won't go far."

The West Wind heard a neighing sound from a distance before turning to his uncle. "And what, may I ask, brings you to Aeolia, uncle"

**To be continued...**

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A/N: YEAH! Chapter 9 done! *cheering loudly* Review! Review! Review!


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek mythology.

A/N: Many thanks to the people who have continually read this work of mine. I do apologize as I update it as infrequently as ever. Sometimes the inspiration doesn't flow as frequently as I would want it. Again, many, many thanks to my dear readers!

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It was a warm morning that came to rise on Aeolia that day. The warmth was such that the moment Dawn had given way to Helios riding across the great expanse of sky, there was a sound of rumbling from the side of the island that was inhabited.

"Of all the infernal, useless, and potentially harmful climates, we decided to be graced with this!" Boreas glowered from his side of the dining hall. "This humidity is an abomination!"

"I don't see what you're whining about. It seems quite fine," the South Wind replied as he took a sip of sweet nectar from his glass. "Besides, there is nothing you can do about it."

"Nothing?" the North Wind looked murderous as he glared at his brother.

At this, the eternally peacemaking East Wind sailed into the room and rebuked his brothers: "Please don't fight. It's such a lovely morning."

The look on the beautiful face was so piteous that both had to give in and call it a truce, although Notus was quite aware he had not said anything that was the least bit offensive.

As Eurus sat next to the South Wind, he suddenly remembered a question he had wanted to ask since he had opened his eyes to that somewhat humid morning. "Do you know that Zephyr arrived last night?"

Boreas almost choked on the ambrosia he had been eating. Notus good-naturedly thumped his back as he stifled a smiled that was daring to present itself.

"He's back?"

Eurus nodded. "I saw his horse this morning, wandering around while I went out to visit the garden." His voice faltered as he ended his sentence and a somewhat mournful look passed his face.

This did not escape the ever vigilant eyes of the South Wind who asked what the matter was.

"Oh, it's nothing," the East Wind said flippantly—a tad bit too flippantly—as the South Wind grabbed his hand and demanded that Eurus look him in the eye. When the latter refused to, Notus' grip tightened, causing the East Wind to look at him, his eyes silently begging to let go of as it hurt. For a moment, it seemed as all time stopped and then continued on as though nothing happened.

But the East Wind looked very ruffled and quite hurt. "That hurt, Notus," he murmured softly before taking a ambrosia and running off, leaving a very much annoyed Boreas.

"Why do you have to do that?" Boreas' inquired as Notus nonchalantly continued to sip his drink as though nothing had happened. "Aren't you afraid he'll hate you for it?"

"Don't be stupid," the South Wind replied. "I wouldn't have done it if I'd known he wouldn't forgive me, but seeing as he wouldn't tell us, it's for the best."

The North Wind's brow shot up as if to say: "Are you quite certain?"

Notus gave a nod of assent. "After all, it's not every night that Uncle Perses decides to drop by for an unexpected visit."

oo00oo

"Eurus, what are you doing here?"

Zephyr was surprised to see the East Wind huddled on the floor at the foot of his bed, savagely eating ambrosia as tears streamed down his face.

Eurus hastily tried to wipe his tears away, but the West Wind had swooped on his and was already doing so.

"What's happened this time?" Zephyr sighed as his elder brother's arms flew about his neck and several sniffles were heard. "Did you get into a fight with Notus?" He almost said "Again?" but had bit his tongue to stop the word from escaping.

Between the sniffles and the tears, the West Wind managed to extract the story from his brother. It was clear the East Wind was upset.

"I would have told him...eventually..." Eurus said when he had quite stopped crying. "He doesn't have to invade my memory..."

"I'm sure you would have," Zephyr said as he helped his brother up. Someone would have to mention it to the South Wind how Eurus did not like his method of extracting the answers from him. But that would have to wait, as he had other pressing matters at hand.

He lead Eurus to a couch and bade him to sit there instead of on the floor, handing him a new ambrosia as it seemed the old one been discarded during the crying fit.

After having seen to the comforts of his elder brother, Zephyr proceeded to a basket that had several lengths of clean linen. He took a few strips and then went to another side of the room where he kept all his ointments, salves and other healing potions that his mother would send or bring every opportunity she had. He searched the bottles continually until it seemed he had found the right one.

Eurus, curiosity getting the better of him, was watching the proceedings carefully as he ate from the couch. He dared not get up for fear of disturbing his brother.

As soon as the ointment and the linen were in hand, Zephyr proceeded to his bed and pulled aside the thin curtain that veiled his bed—similar to how a four-post bed would have heavy curtains to shield the sleeper from the cruel awakening of the sun in his eyes—revealing a sleeping Hyacinthus.

The East Wind's eyes widened with surprise. Was not the poor thing languishing in the dungeon? _I must be dreaming_, Eurus thought as he watched the West Wind unravel the bandages on Hyacinthus' arms to reveal the most hideous looking marks.

Eurus did not mean to, but he gasped. In his surprise he had almost dropped the precious ambrosia he was eating. Zephyr quickly turned to him and motioned with a finger to his lips for silence. The East Wind nodded and bit his tongue.

The marks looked as though the mortal's arms had been scalded and burned. Not the entire arm, but just parts of it.

Zephyr gently applied the salve and ointment before wrapping them up in the clean linen. When he was done, he slowly pulled the covers and revealed Hyacinthus' legs which were also covered in the same burn marks as the ones that covered his arms. Zephyr repeated the process of unravelling the old linen, applying the concoctions and bandaging them up again with new, clean linen as Eurus wondered to himself what had happened.

When the West Wind had done, Eurus was surprised to find his brother motioning to him to come over. He set aside his ambrosia, got up and went to his brother's side.

"I need you to help me. There are some marks on his back, but I can't replace the bandages without waking him. We'll have to change his garments as well as they're soaked in sweat," Zephyr explained in a whisper.

Eurus nodded and together, he and Zephyr stripped the sleeping Hyacinthus down to his waist. While Eurus held the invalid, Zephyr unravelled the old linen, applied the ointment and rewrapped the wounds with new linen—as he had done with the other wounds.

When that was done, they undressed Hyacinthus and replaced his clothes with new, cleaner ones. The clothes they had discarded were indeed drenched in sweat and a lingering scent of something that seemed like decaying flesh rose from them. Eurus felt a bit sick as the scent was considerably revolting—even to an Immortal like himself.

When they were done, they laid Hyacinthus back on the bed and drew the curtains closed, leaving the sleeping mortal undisturbed.

The old clothes and linen that had been covered in sweat and the revolting scent were thrown into the fireplace by a grim-looking Zephyr, before he and the East Wind left the room and its sleeping inhabitant.

No sooner had Zephyr shut the door of his private chambers behind him than Eurus asked what had been plaguing his mind: What happened?

"Uncle Perses paid me a visit last night," Zephyr explained as they walked down the hall that led to the gardens.

Eurus balked. Perses, the god of destruction, was something of a hermit who refused almost all possible opportunity of leaving his home where he lived with his wife Astreria and their daughter, the beautiful Hecate whose lovely purple eyes bewitched all. He only left his abode for one thing: destruction.

Zephyr shook his head before ruefully adding, "And that is why your beloved garden is in shambles."

Realization dawned on the East Wind. So that was why his beloved blossoming plants were dried up and dead! "But why?" he turned to the West Wind.

A stern look passed over Zephyr's face. "It has something to do with the invalid we just helped."

Eurus almost tripped on the stairs when he heard this. Zephyr caught him just in time to pull him back to his feet as the East Wind exclaimed: "But Uncle Perses would never deign to help a mortal!"

"You wound me, nephew," a familiar voice spoke. Eurus' eyes darted across the garden and saw dark mist gathering beneath his favourite tree that was now quite dead. When it had cleared, he saw his pale and frightening uncle standing beneath the once living and thriving plant. "There are things I _would_ do for family."

Eurus was wide-eyed. What did his uncle mean? Hyacinthus was a mortal. The Anemoi were Immortals. The farthest thing they could be was related.

"Uncle received unsettling news concerning Amyclas' son, and knowing the said person was in our keeping, he hurried over and released him from the dungeon and placed him in my chambers to create an illusion," Zephyr explained. "Of course...it did have a little side effect."

Recalling the burns on Hyacinthus, Eurus pointed a seemingly accusing finger at his uncle. "That was you?"

"Come, come now, nephew," Perses said, a smile on his face. The East Wind noted the supercilious manner of his uncle's expression and it frightened him. "One would think it was _I_ who intended harm on that _thing_."

He took a step toward Eurus but the latter took a step back, half in fright and half in a somewhat preconditioned response.

"What a pity, it seems Eurus doesn't like me," the god of destruction said—although to Eurus it sounded as though it was a cruel joke.

"After what you did to his garden, I'm surprised if he would ever come to like you at all," a voice came from behind Eurus that almost caused his heart to stop. Notus had arrived on the scene just in time to hear the exchange between the East Wind and their uncle.

"Good morning. You still have quite a sharp tongue, Notus," their uncle noted, before setting his eyes on Zephyr.

"I got it from father's side of the family," was the South Wind's retort as the East Wind ran into his arms and hid in his cloak.

"Yes, it seems you did," Perses smiled, although his eyes still had not left Zephyr's face.

"What is it that you want, uncle?" the South Wind asked.

Perses's smile left his face and was replaced with a more serious expression. "I have some business with Zephyr that does not concern any of you."

Notus glance at Zephyr who said nothing but was looking at their uncle as though deep in thought. "Your manner of conducting business with family is lacking in warmth, uncle," he observed aloud.

"Ah, but then, the point is to get the job done. Is that not correct, Zephyr?"

At that point the god of destruction began to fade until he had totally disappeared from their sight.

"You'd better come in, Eurus," the South Wind said as he led the East Wind into their abode. "You've suffered quite a nasty fright and I don't think you'll be able to stand anymore of this. Zephyr, you too,"

Zephyr followed suit, but not before hearing his uncle's voice again: "The point is to get the job done..."

**To be continued...**

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A/N: Success! Chapter 10 is done. On to chapter 11! (^_^)


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek mythology.

A/N: I apologize for the long delay. I only got time to scribbler and actually plan something this weekend. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to all my readers. I hope you enjoy this part.

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Shadows danced on the wall, lending an eerie feel to the marble room that housed the two players who were so engrossed in their game that they failed to notice Selene making her slow, but sure ascent onto the dark sky. The silence filled the room and spread like an epidemic that you could hear a pin drop had you decided to drop by and pay the marble room a visit.

Finally, one of the players decided to stir, reaching out a hand and moving a figure of silver to one side of the board before saying, "I believe the odds are in my favour now."

The North Wind leaned in and studied the pieces on the board. "Yes, I believe it does...unless I choose to do this." He moved a gold figure to the center of the board. "Now the odds are back in my favour, Notus."

The South Wind settled back into his seat. Trust Boreas to crush the smallest amount of triumph. He studied the board again, deep in thought as to how he could defeat his brother and make the most of this minor defeat.

"This is getting to be a very tricky game," he heard the North Wind rumble. "And to think Uncle Perses had to be the one to save us from it."

_Ah, he isn't talking about this game_, the South Wind thought, before saying aloud, "Do you always think of everything as a game, Boreas?"

The North Wind laughed. "Don't you?"

"No," Notus replied, before moving another silver piece across the board, taking away one of Boreas' gold figures. "We have responsibilities and duties. There is nothing playful about those tasks."

"But don't games have rules and regulations that we need to play by?" Eos' eldest son took one of the South Wind's silver pieces and replaced its position with one of his gold figures.

Notus acquiesced. That was true, but then, games did not carry as much casualties as responsibilities and duties and he voiced his opinion once more. To which his brother replied: "Ah, but there are casualties...granted they are of a lesser value, but nonetheless, they are casualties."

"Would you consider Zephyr a casualty of lesser value then?" The South Wind murmured, staring at the board for more options.

"If I did, I would not be sitting here, scheming and making grandiose plans as to how we can get rid of this."

"What have you come up with so far?"

Boreas sighed. "I believe this is beyond us. If Uncle Perses thought it serious enough to intervene, then we must view it as it is and deal with it in that capacity." He moved one of his pieces before adding: "I've requested an audience with our family three days from now. It's best to have more players on the field."

"So what do we do now?" the South Wind asked as he watched Boreas move a piece across the board before declaring the move a 'checkmate.'

"We wait," Boreas replied.

_Ah, that's reasonable_, Notus thought as he made a move a piece of his own before declaring a 'checkmate' of his own.

oo00oo

Meanwhile, at another part of the spacious confines of the Anemoi's elaborate residence, the East Wind was assisting his brother at tending to the invalid's wounds. It had become something sort of a ritual since the time their uncle had paid them a visit. As he unwound the bandages, Eurus noticed that the putrid smells that used to invade the room whenever they'd change the wraps were now absent from the chambers.

"They're beginning to heal," he remarked to the West Wind who was mixing some salve in one part of the room. "Will they leave any scars?"

The West Wind shook his head. "No, they won't."

Eurus nodded, somehow pleased to note this piece of good news. At least the poor thing wouldn't have a reminder of his brush with the god of destruction. How odd it was that his Uncle was able to sire a lovely creature such as his cousin, Hecate!

The West Wind gently coaxed the East Wind to a side as he spread the salve on the invalid's wounds. Eurus watched as his brother dabbed a piece of cloth and wiped the slow-healing burns on the invalid's arms. Hyacinthus had not woken up since his encounter with their Uncle and, according to Boreas, it would be some time before he did.

"_He isn't dead, is he?" the East Wind recalled asking._

"_Well, if he is, then good riddance, I say!" the South Wind muttered from his seat. _

"_You don't mean that!" Eurus had cried out, looking at Notus with such eloquent eyes that the South Wind took back what he said and looked sorry for it._

"_No, he isn't dead." The North Wind assured his younger brother. "I think it's a state of semi-paralysis. He'll wake up when the wounds start closing...that is, if he wishes to, although under the circumstances, that would be a hard call to make."_

"Wrap it up, Eurus," the West Wind's voice interrupted his brother's thoughts.

The East Wind nodded, apologizing for his momentary lapse and proceeded to bandages up the wounds with new linen. He felt it quite unsettling that even the slightest movement did not waken the poor invalid. Instead, he felt that Hyacinthus drifted further into some unknown realm from which he did not wish to wake.

"I feel sorry for him," he suddenly said, pausing in mid-wrap.

The West Wind, who had been cleaning the side of the room where he had mixing the salve they had used, paused in his work before saying, "You always feel sorry for something or someone, Eurus."

The East Wind was stung by his brother's comment, but brushed the stinging feeling away. _It is true, _he thought, before adding, aloud, "But...it somehow feels that we forced this on him."

Zephyr paused in his work for a second time and to the East Wind's surprise, the West Wind sighed.

"Are you all right, Zephyr?" the East Wind made as if to leave Hyacinthus' half-bound arm go to the West Wind but was stopped by Zephyr giving a wave of his hand.

"I'm fine," was the somewhat stern reply as Zephyr continued on his task. "We didn't force anything on anyone, Eurus. These things happen."

Eurus fell silent as he continued to wrap the wounds. _That might be true_, he thought. But then what was that nagging feeling at the back of his mind? Did his brothers ever have that? Most of the gods had dubbed him as soft and kind-hearted. One of his uncles had even said that: "Eurus is too kind for his own good. One of these days, that kindness will catch up with you..."

Perhaps he was too kind.

"Yes, but it still feels like we've robbed him of something that should have been his to begin with," the East Wind said as he tucked Hyacinthus to bed, having wrapped the last of his wounds up.

Zephyr sent a soft breeze to pull the thin curtains about the bed as Eurus threw the used linen into the fire. Before they left the room, Eurus watched as Zephyr stopped at the doorway, and took another glance at the invalid before saying: "Nothing is really ever ours to begin with."

oo00oo

"Three days hence."

The West Wind said nothing and continued to read the scroll before him. He wasn't really interested in the scrolls contents at the moment but he needed something to occupy his mind and it was the most accessible and productive thing to do—at the moment.

Boreas entered his brother's chambers. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down in one of the couches and made himself at home, whistling as though he hadn't a care in the world.

"Would you cease that infernal whistling?" the West Wind bellowed from his corner a few seconds later.

The North Wind said nothing but continued to whistle as though the reprimand had not been given. A few minutes later the scroll the West Wind had been reading came flying across the room from the balcony where the West Wind had been reading and landed in the fire place near Boreas's feet.

"You missed," the North Wind said with a smile.

Zephyr shrugged before settling down on a couch himself.

"Eurus is worried. I heard him speaking of it to Notus when I made my way here."

"A nasty habit of yours, no doubt," the West Wind snapped. He was in no mood for conversation.

"Ah, but a nasty habit with its good points," the North Wind smiled again.

The West Wind said nothing. Instead, he glared at the burning scroll and for a moment, the North Wind was privy to the depth of the West Wind's dark thoughts.

"Three days hence?" Zephyr spoke hours later as his brother stood up to leave.

"Yes." The North Wind replied before making his way to his own chambers, leaving the West Wind with his thoughts.

**To be continued...**

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A/N: Finally, a meeting of the gods—sort of!


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

A/N: The plot thickens! Finally, readers, you get to meet the rest of the Anemoi's extended family!

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When the three sons of Crius and Eurybia meet, there appears a convergence of darkness. Or so it would seem to anyone who witnessed the conference of the three, accompanied by their respective wives and their children, who were cousins to the Anemoi. Unlike their Olympian counterparts, these three were of a serious, grave and sombre nature. Their wives were unlike them in that they were cut of a happier disposition than their spouses while their children were of both temperaments.

They arrived on the evening of the third day, thus the earth was rewarded with a starless sky yet many a mortal failed to notice this as they were all asleep in their beds—unmindful of the council that was taking place in the island of Aeolia.

The three brothers took their seats on three thrones created by the smith-god that stood side by side in one side of the meeting chambers within the palatial residence of the Anemoi. Their wives sat on cushions wrought of the softest clouds contained in cushion covers of gold spun by Athena herself.

The twins, Hesperus and Esosphorus, being of a younger age sat next to their mother on little cushions of their own. Their cousins, the four children of Pallas and his naiad-wife, Styx, were seated on chairs on the left side of the room while the beautiful Hecate occupied the right side of the room, in a throne wrought of silver which was a gift from her own cousin, the chaste Huntress.

In the middle of the room sat the Anemoi in seats of Ivory.

"Boreas, why pray tell have you summoned a family council?" Pallas spoke. "I do not believe we have received the reason when you sent us the message summoning us to meet you three days hence."

"I do beg pardon, Uncle. That was quite rude of me to forget such a detail," Boreas replied. He glanced at the South Wind, who gave a grave nod, before continuing. "I'm certain, what with all of us here being Immortals, that we are aware of the fact that the West Wind, my brother, has acquired a certain artefact which has all brought us here."

"Nonetheless, nephew, we would like to hear of this artefact of which you speak," the god of destruction called from his throne, a wry smile on his face.

The North Wind cleared his throat. "Certainly, uncle," turning to the others, he proceeded to describe Hyacinthus as a mortal who had been given in exchange for his brother's safe travel to meet his fiancée—and whose life was now under the threat.

While he was narrating this, the East Wind grew uneasy. It had always been a known fact that the three brother bore no love for mortals, which was an irony as their wives had, one way or the other, something to do with mortals. The Anemoi's own mother, to whom all men based the rising of Helios, heralded the morning. Their aunt, Styx, owned the river by which unbreakable oaths were sworn. Their other aunt, Astreria, was the goddess of oracles and prophetic dreams through which mortals heard the will of the gods.

After the North Wind had spoken, the three sons of Crius were silent. For a moment, nothing could be heard but the rolling of the sea that surrounded the island.

"This is quite unusual," Pallas spoke. "Why ought we to save this mortal?"

_I was afraid he'd say that..._the South Wind thought. _He never liked mortals to begin with_.

"Do not our Olympian cousins save mortals who are in their favour?" was the soft reply of the East Wind to which Pallas frowned and returned: "We are not the Olympians."

"And how did he come to be in our favour?" the god of destruction questioned them. The South Wind noticed an amused glint in his uncle's eyes as Perses's gaze fell on the youngest of the Anemoi.

"What do you mean, Perses?" Astraeus asked his youngest brother. "We have granted no favour on any child born of Amyclas of Laconia. They may pray for safe passage, a prophecy or something our family can give them, but it is at our discretion as to whether or not we shall respond." Evidently, he was not going to pass this meeting in silence.

"Shall we not ask the West Wind?" was his brother's response.

Astraeus turned his eyes on the youngest of his Wind brood and although he said not a word, the question was written plainly in his own eyes: _What have you done?_

"I have sworn by the river Styx that I would see that no harm would befall Amyclas' youngest son."

The silence, which had ever been present when no one spoke, had now grown louder than ever. The blank expressions on his father and his uncles' betrayed nothing to the West Wind on what they thought of his decision. His mother was beaming at him, although he was uncertain as to whether she was doing so because she was pleased or not. His Aunt Styx seemed quite uneasy, but his Aunt Astreria had a knowing look about her that somehow displeased the West Wind.

"Conquered by a mortal!" chortled Kratos, the second son of Pallas. He was rewarded with a withering look from one of the twins, but this did not undermine the mirth in his laughter.

Bia, the third son of Pallas, also had a grin on his face. The idea that the West Wind had been conquered by someone, let alone a mortal, was something that was quite humorous. After all, it was a well-known secret that the West Wind seemed to have inherited his father's and uncles' dislike for mortals.

It was Zelus, who broke the uncertain state of the entire room, when he said: "I find it hard to believe that a god would wish harm on such a mere mortal with no considerable political standing."

"That is true," Boreas replied. "But the point stands that my brother has sworn an unbreakable oath. Only a god would know what he has acquired. Even you, our own family, did not know of this acquisition until spoken of—this with the exception of Aunt Astreria, certainly."

"Are you saying that someone is attempting to ruin your brother?" Eos asked in alarmed tones.

"Sabotage against another immortal's vow is forbidden," Zelus, eldest of Pallas' brood, calmly noted. "It seems we have a culprit to seek out, do you not agree, father?"

"Yes, my son," Pallas replied. "It may seem so."

"We cannot seek what we do not know," Bia responded.

"Oh, but we do know one thing or another, nephew," Perses said. "Set a trap and capture your prey."

"Yes, but how would you propose we do that?" Styx questioned her brother-in-law. "It seems this culprit is only attracted to the idea of our nephew's ruin. Nothing less will do."

Eos buried her face in her hands. Unhappy was Dawn at the thought of her son falling victim to the sabotaging schemes of a fellow immortal. Should anything happen to that mortal child, it would be the ruin of her son. And one knew what awaited an immortal who reneged on his sworn oath.

Astraeus noticed that grief that possessed his wife and it touched his heart. He would not allow anyone to bring ruin on any of his family. At the corner of his eye, he saw that both Perses and Pallas were looking at him. When their eyes met, a certain resolve was seen in them.

"How do you propose we set a trap, uncle?" Nike asked the god of destruction.

"Place something where it is not expected to be found," Perses replied. "No one has ever heard of any of our family walking around mortals, have they?"

The others assented to this. It was true, only the Olympians had deigned to join the mortals, sometimes visiting them in their humble abodes. Their family had preferred to stay "an arm's length" away from such beings—had always preferred to live in silence.

_Now it's only a question of where_, the South Wind mused as he sat in his seat.

**To be continued...**

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A/N: FINALLY, we come to part 2 of the story!


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

A/N: Thank you very much to all of you who have given my work the time of day. I am most appreciative of your reading it and enjoying (hopefully) my work.

Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to the trio of **Sleepy Eyes25**, **Fadedlimitation**, and **Adeona**. I had half the mind not to continue this story but then these three made me change my mind, so I hope you do like this chapter (I've only just made time for it).

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Zephyr frowned. The heat was unbearable. They had been trudging all morning and it seemed as though they hadn't made a single bit of progress as their destination seemed to be even further away than when they had started. Why he had ever allowed himself to be talked into such folly was beyond him—the scorching sun was simply exaggerated! He would have a word with his Uncle Helios on that note when he returned. That is, if he ever would make it back.

Considering the ridiculous weather conditions, he'd probably last a week before crying "Mercy."

The West Wind's musings would've gone on a longer note had not his companion given a sudden cry and started waving furiously toward a cloud of billowing dust.

Shielding his eyes from the bright rays of Helios, Zephyr watched as the cloud came closer before it had dawned on him that they were rider, bearing the standards of...

He really hadn't the chance nor the time to find out exactly which standard they were bearing as at that very moment, the heat—being altogether too much for one so used to being surrounded by the cooling shade an wind at great alternations—had proved too much for the West Wind.

He had fainted.

oo00oo

"_I will not!" Zephyr thundered. _

"_I don't see how you can have a choice," Bia, Pallas' youngest son, spoke from his corner of the room. "I, for one, think it is quite a brilliant plan."_

_Zephyr glared at his cousin and would have smote him right there and then had not Hecate intervened. "You need not do anything yet, Zephyr, until our fathers have reached a conclusion. You will have to admit though that such a plan is, as our cousin says, 'brilliant.'"_

"_That's enough," Boreas added. "We'll have to wait on this thought. Father and our uncles will take some time to decide as they always want to make sure everything is set and ready." _

"_That is easy for you to say," Zelus snorted. "After all, wasn't it you who brought that mortal into Aeolia?"_

_The North Wind shrugged. "And if I did?"_

"_To make it plain, cousin, Zephyr would not be in such a predicament had you just let this prince's brother safe passage without demanding so much," Kratos pointed out. "I really do not understand the justification of all this."_

"_Don't let's fight," Eurus tried to calm the tension in the room, throwing an imploring glance in Nike's direction. She lorded it over her brothers who did not dare cross her as she was their only dearest sister whom they loved and adored, much in a way that was similar to the Anemoi's and their affection for the neglected East Wind._

_But the goddess of victory did nothing except to say: "Yes, Boreas. You failed to mention the reason why you ever let a mortal into the realm of the Anemoi. That has hardly ever happened before."_

_The North Wind would have glared at Nike had not his mind reminded him that being in a room filled with her overprotective brothers, glaring at his cousin was not such a good option. Instead he sighed before replying, "I believe that is none of your business as it only involves my brothers and I."_

"_It's too late to say that it's only your concern," Zelus remarked as he paced the room. "It involves us now as you've convened the family for such a troublesome thing."_

_At this, Boreas would have threatened his own cousin had not Hecate thrown him a warning glance. He felt as though her purple eyes had seen through him and had noted his intention of perhaps maiming his cousin so he would not hear such accusations. Dismissing any idea of harming his cousin, he announced that he would say nothing more on the matter._

"_Have you nothing to say on this, Notus?" Kratos asked the South Wind, who had, until now remained quietly seated. "This is your plan, much as I am surprised to hear that it came from you as it is common knowledge that both you and your youngest brother share a great amount of apathy and indifference toward these mortals."_

"_Notus cannot be bothered by mortals," Bia added. "He cannot abide by them. If he had the rein of the cosmos, he'd do away with mortals and fill the world with massive, dense forests."_

"_That is not true!" The East Wind cried in defence of his brother. "Notus has some affection for them—even if it is little!"_

"_If it is most certainly as you say it is, Eurus, then why did he once threaten the city of—"_

"_I think we've exhausted the topic far enough," Hecate interrupted Bia. "As to Notus' affection or lack of it for mortals, that is for him. Should Zephyr choose to have the same prejudices, there is nothing we can do. At this point, the main concern is that both that mortal and our cousin have to be kept safe."_

_Nike voiced her agreement in a tone that dared her brothers to defy her. And as always, they quieted down. _

_The West Wind felt as though he had been quite exhausted at the argument amongst his brothers and their cousins. The South Wind's plan did not sit well with him. He had long had an unexplainable dislike for the mortal realm. Perhaps such things could be inherited as his father and uncles all seemed to have such leanings. _

_And to now enter their world so as to keep true to his vow—he did not wish to think of it. He did not wish to, and yet his uncles and even his own father had decided to convene on his brother's plan. If they decided to follow through with it, he had little to say on the matter. His betters had spoken and it was unlikely that he would defy them._

_As though she could sense that the turmoil about and within him was beginning to take its toll, Hecate gave his hand a press with her own pale hand. He looked up to see her soft purple eyes resting on him. He would have kissed her hand in thanks had not the door been thrown open and his father and uncles emerged from their meeting._

oo00oo

Surely he was mistaken. He had to be as the last thing he recalled was that he was standing in the middle of such sweltering heat. To hear hushed tones speaking in confidence meant that there were mortals nearby.

Zephyr opened his eyes and was greeted by a canopy of thin material hovering above him. In his surprise, he sat up so quickly that a jolt of pain rose to his head and he felt his surroundings spin about for a moment or two.

When the pain had passed, the West Wind carefully studied his surroundings. He was in bed, but this was not his own private chambers as he was soon to discover that the bed had none of the ornate carvings his own bed had. Scanning the room for a sign as to where he was exactly, he made out a small table with a pitcher and a basin resting atop.

Beyond the bed, he saw an arched way that led to—he supposed—more of what was the room he inhabited. He made out a longer table and something of a divan, or what seemed like the edge of a divan. He wasn't quite sure until he saw a pair of legs and feet dangling from the edge.

That was when he heard the voices again.

"I never thought we'd see you again," an ardent tone of worry in the voice of the speaker wafted into the West Wind's side of the room. "To think Cletus went riding out that afternoon with the idea of hunting and comes home bearing you! Had I known, I would have ridden out the very day we arrived from the island in the hope that they'd return you."

"Don't be ridiculous, brother. You very well know that that wouldn't have brought me home...even if you believed in it with such a passion."

The West Wind felt a prickling sensation run about him as it dawned on him that the voice who had replied was his companion on this forsaken journey. So he was in Laconia...

He was _in_ Laconia! Zephyr suddenly arose from the bed at this realization was made known to him. And without his intending to, it was followed by an unseemly sound of ripping.

What followed was a sound of rushing feet, worried tones and someone helping him back onto bed. In the flurry, Zephyr could make out Hyacinthus and his companion—whoever it was—and about half a dozen other individuals whom he did not bother to place. It wasn't important.

At the moment, he could feel such a sensation of pain that he bowed his head and covered his face with his hands. This surge of pain took longer than the first one to pass. When it has passed, Zephyr slowly opened his eyes and found himself looking into a pair of emerald eyes that startled him as their depth showed him both the worry and the concern of their owner.

It took him but a moment to realize that the owner of these startling eyes were none other than Hyacinthus, who was peering closely at him. Without meaning to, he thundered in such a way as only the Anemoi did: "YOU!"

At this note, Hyacinthus' companion pulled him back and stood between the West Wind and the seventh prince. "You forget yourself, sir, in your manner of addressing my brother," the voice was cold and aloof and irked the West Wind to no end.

The impertinent whelp was the first thing that ran through Zephyr's mind.

"Brother, it is no mat—" Hyacinthus tried to push away his brother's protective arm but was held back by it as his brother cut him short.

"No, Hyacinthus, I will not sit back and allow you to be insulted by this...this man, even if he did save your life."

_Ah, he is an overprotective one...just like Notus._ Zephyr noted as he saw the stern-faced brother glaring down at him.

"But, brother, you are—" Hyacinthus pressed.

Hyacinthus' brother wasted no time arguing with his youngest brother. Instead, he lifted the seventh prince and, carrying him like a sack of feed, hoisted him on his shoulder and marched him out of the room. He was followed by the half a dozen others who had stood in the room with him.

All the way, Zephyr could hear Hyacinthus protesting in high tones whilst his brother ordered him to quiet down. This was followed by the sound of heavy doors being pulled shut and loud protests being made as—Zephyr assumed—Hyacinthus was locked in a room. This was evident as his brother returned to the West Wind's chambers unaccompanied.

"You, sir, will address my brother as befitting to his rank as the seventh prince of Laconia. I know not from whence you came and neither do I wish to know. All I do know is that my brother has insisted that you be brought here to receive medical attention," Hyacinthus' brother assailed the West Wind in the coldest tones possibly mustered by a mortal. "If Hyacinthus wasn't around, you'd surely be dead, but as you have—we presume—saved him, I am bound by certain laws to show you hospitality. My brother says he wishes for you to receive treatment and we will give you treatment, but ought I to witness any untoward behaviour or tone or manner against my brother, I shall have you flogged to within an inch of your life and hanged."

The West Wind, without any intention of undermining the authority of an overprotective brother, raised his brow in a manner that made Hyacinthus' elder sibling glare at him with such vehemence.

"You will address Hyacinthus as "Your Highness" or "Young Master" either of which will do. Under no circumstances are you to address him as "you" or by his given name, are we clear on this, sir?"

Zephyr felt an urge to raise his brow again, but was able to hold back. Instead, he said nothing and opted to continue looking back at the prince to make a study of him. He found it amusing that such a mortal would be worse than his own brother when it came to the department of being overprotective. _He would rival Notus...or worse! _The West Wind thought.

Unbeknownst to the West Wind, his silence angered the prince, who was Evzen. How dare this person undermine his brother's person! It did not sit well with Evzen and to see such hauteur from someone in his predicament angered the prince even more.

But Evzen was not of a nature to beat sense into people, literally. Instead, he said, even more coldly than before: "Are we clear on this, sir?"

Zephyr, in an attempt to rid himself of Evzen's presence as he felt another jolt of pain, waved the prince away. It was at this point that the prince, wholly angered by his behaviour, pulled him up before delivering a good solid punch at the West Wind.

**To be continued...**


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology.

A/N: I apologise for the delay in updating the story. I just bought a book on Greek Society, which got me so caught up that I forgot to update for quite some time. I also had to do some research for the story as well as map out the succeeding chapters. I do sincerely apologise for the delay and hope you, my dear readers, do not get angry at me for this. Thank you very much for appreciating my work. I've received hundreds of views—at least, the last time I checked—and am very much grateful for the support.

Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to the following: **Terra King**, **Deadlizard**, **Hazelnut Pie**, and **Innocentrini**. Thank you very much for adding me to your Authors Alert list. I appreciate it very much!

* * *

From the moment he was born, the East Wind had lived a very sheltered life. His mother, Eos, was a doting parent. She lavished a great amount of affection on her son, who ironically resembled her while his two older brothers bore a strong resemblance to their father—save for their eyes, which were of a lighter tone as compared to the piercing grey eyes of Astraeus.

No. The East Wind resembled his mother as the twins, Esosphorus and Hesperus resembled her. He bore a head of silk-like golden hair and owned "the prettiest pair of doe-shaped eyes," or so his mother pronounced every time he opened them as a babe.

Indeed, the East Wind was a beautiful child. His elder brothers came under his spell the moment they set eyes on him. Astraeus had allowed his older children to lay eyes on little Eurus a few hours after he had been brought into the world by his mother—and the spell had remained unbroken—despite Zephyr having been born a few years after, for even this younger brother fell under the binding spell of the East Wind.

But, as with all good things, the beauty that was praised by even his aunts and uncles was deemed a fault by the East Wind. Even with the constant reassurances of devotion made by his brothers, his mother and—on the rarest of counts—his father, Eurus felt his _deficiency_ keenly.

While Boreas, as eldest brother, occasionally teased him for resembling their mother, the South Wind hardly mentioned it. And for this Eurus was grateful. But what the South Wind did not speak, he acted on quite wilfully. He dictated the East Wind how he ought to act, how to carry himself, how to speak—for a time, Eos was pleased with the concerned manner the South Wind taught his brother.

As time passed, though, it was remarked upon by the gods that it seemed as the South Wind possessed an overriding affection for the East Wind in that he cared not what befell his other brothers—so long as Eurus was in perfect condition. And this alarmed his parents greatly, as they wished for their sons to harbour a certain sort of equal concern and affection for all their siblings.

It was then that the god of the stars decided that it would be best for the brothers to be separated for a time—until the South Wind had developed a similar bond with his other siblings. Eos presented him with an even younger brother in the form of the West Wind and Eurus was spirited away to live with his Uncle Helios and his wife, Clymene.

Initially, the separation took its toll on the South Wind who raged for a time and refused to acknowledge the presence of the West Wind unless Eurus was returned to him. The North Wind bore this patiently and took his own time to be acquainted with the newest addition to his "collection of siblings," as he called his brothers then—he later used this to his advantage and soon enticed the South Wind to himself be acquainted with the newest member of the family.

And the god of the stars took notice, for the South Wind raged less and less in the coming months and soon formed a bond of somewhat similar if not equal strength with both the North and the West Wind. It was not long after that the East Wind was summoned home to be reunited with his brothers—just in time for the arrival of the last pair of siblings that would be added to the North Wind's collection: Hesperus and Esosphorus.

By then, the Anemoi were transferred from their parents abode to live on an island of their own. They were "old enough to understand the responsibility of their powers" and "needed more space as governors of so special a gift as theirs" their father had said.

It was on that very same island that the hold the South Wind had over the East Wind grew less stronger. As he had been sheltered all his life from any possible harm that could befall an Immortal child, the East Wind was in constant danger from his ignorance. But while the South Wind was there to protect him, the East Wind had developed a mind of his own—this after being subjected to countless requests by his cousins, the Heliades, when he had been staying with his uncle Helios. So while most of the time, he would follow the South Wind's commands and entreaties, yet there were times when he banished all thought of obedience and went his own way.

This caused some consternation in the South Wind and there were times when Notus raged on the island at the lack of care the East Wind seemed to have with regard to his person—and as always, the East Wind would apologise, almost immediately, and own up to his "mistake" for which the South Wind would cease raging and the island of Aeolia would return to its usual calm.

Yet, it happened, that today was not one of those days.

With the absence of the West Wind, the island was, as Boreas would later describe, "completely and utterly a source of boredom to us all." Due to this lack, the North Wind left Aeolia a lot—leaving the East Wind in the most capable hands of the South Wind.

"I hardly think any harm will come to you," Boreas had remarked when Eurus begged his eldest brother to bring him along on one of his many excursions. "As compared to say, if you left on a trip with me, you'd probably return missing or lacking something—and we both know that simply will not do."

Eurus fell silent at this and accepted the kiss the North Wind placed on his brow.

But it had been weeks since the North Wind had returned and the East Wind grew tired of being constantly kept under watch by the South Wind. So on the rarest of rare occasions, Eurus found himself stealing away from Aeolia as the South Wind attended to some matter of importance.

For a few moments, the East Wind wandered about with no definite direction in mind. He simply revelled in the thought of finally being allowed some peaceful, non-commandeered moments of his own. He went about from one village to another, peering into the lives of its inhabitants and learning the wonders of mortals.

Later, he soon grew tired of this and was beginning to yearn for a place to rest. Fortunately, he found himself quite near the abode of his cousin, purple-eyed Hecate, who was at that very moment, tending to her garden of flowers.

She prudently hid her surprise at seeing her cousin standing before her with a sheepish look on his face when she inquired as to the reason why his constant companion was not present with him.

"Well, as it seems to be of no importance, why don't you sit down and I'll get you something to nibble. You look hungry," the pretty cousin said as she ushered the East Wind to a seat.

"I _am_ hungry," owned Eurus as he sat himself down on the hammock, "And thirsty too."

Hecate busied herself with preparing a small spread of ambrosia and nectar for her cousin, yet as soon as she was done, she found the East Wind—having been exhausted from his trip around and about—curled up fast asleep in the hammock.

Her purple eyes danced.

It had been some time since she had last seen her cousin—without the presence of the South Wind hovering anywhere near—alone. Taking a blanket woven from the softest clouds, she tucked the East Wind as gently as possible and left him to tend to her garden.

_I suppose it won't be long before Notus comes a-knocking on my door, too_, the goddess of magic smiled as she busied herself with her plants.

oo00oo

Apollo was in a dreadful mood. He had been since he had discovered, upon waking, that his beloved sister had gone off on a trip with their half-brother, Hermes.

"_How dare he usurp my position as brother to Artemis!" Apollo thundered to his mother as she went about readying a meal for him. "I am Artemis' brother! Not him!"_

"_Hush, my son," Leto kissed the slighted god on his golden head. "Hermes is also her brother just as he is also yours." _

_But Apollo claimed he would not be silence and continued grousing 'til his mother, tired of his complaints, demanded that he go out and have a little fun of his own. "Do not begrudge your half-brother your sister. He has no siblings of his own. You've had Artemis since you were but a wee babe. Hermes is his mother's only child."_

Nevertheless, the Archer-god felt as though he had been slighted. He had always been Artemis' companion on her many excursions. And now he had been thrust aside? For a half-brother!

_This is not to be borne_! Apollo though as he sat himself by a flowing river and watched as leaves that had fallen into the water, followed the current and were slowly swept away. _Does my sister not bear me any affection at all?_

As he prodded his mind for a difficult task to set Hermes to as soon as they arrived, Apollo spied a tall white blossom dancing by the riverside. Its petals had accents of golden yellow along its tips and its centre was of a defiantly lovely purple. The moment his eyes fell on the flower, Apollo found himself reminded of the beauty of another cousin, Hecate!

All thoughts of permanent hardship for Hermes vanished. Instead, his attention was claimed by this blossom. Plucking it from the ground, by the roots, he carefully wrapped it in a moistened cloth and departed toward his dark cousin's abode.

oo00oo

The South Wind's fury was ill-concealed.

Having discovered the disappearance of the East Wind upon his return from a task, Notus was quite anxious and, at the same time, completely displeased with Eurus' actions.

They hadn't gotten over the trouble with that mortal brat and now Eurus had disappeared! The North Wind would never let him hear the end of it. What on earth had possessed Eurus to up and leave?

"Perhaps...I may have been a bit too hard on him..." the South Wind murmured.

Granted that he was, the question now was: where did the East Wind go?

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**To be continued...**

A/N: I had to take a break from the ZephyrxHyacinthus Arc. I hope this chapter explained the relationship between the Anemoi a bit clearer. I'd like for my readers to understand the relationships of the characters a bit better because it gives them a better understanding of the story. Thank you very much for the support and I'm looking forward to your reviews! 3


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

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The unmistakeable sound of pattering feet could be heard all over the palace of Amyclas, King of Laconia, as servants made their way up and down the spacious residence of the Royal family—seeing to their masters' private chambers, preparing the wood needed for the fireplaces, changing linen...their tasks were endless. But on this particular day, one pair of feet strode through the halls with a purpose: to deliver a new set of linen to the room of an invalid guest.

Anyone who took the time to study the servant, who quietly made his way up the stairs and along the halls, would be able to tell that he was no mere servant. His carriage was quite the opposite of the harangued servants of the many sons of the king. In fact, it seemed as though he were at his leisure with his careful yet quick steps, his arms filled with linen.

The young fellow would have passed on a less than eventful day had not the sudden appearance of the second prince of Laconia interfered with the servant's otherwise non-exciting day.

"Hi! You!" the prince bellowed from his side of the hall, having just emerged from the stairs as the servant was halfway through quitting this particular hall. "Halt, you bearing the excessive amounts of linen!"

The servant stopped at a mid-step before turning to face the now out-of-breath prince, who had taken the liberty of chasing after the servant lest he escape the prince. With an impertinent brow raised in a manner that questioned the prince's call to stop, he asked in a completely serene tone: "Sire?"

"Thank the gods I caught up with you," the prince said in between pants as he gasped for breath. "Would you be so kind as to tell me what all that infernal racket is about?"

A second brow rose as the servant explained that he had not heard any racket—so far as he was concerned, he had just been ordered to bring more linen. "I have not heard any..." he paused, pursing his lips. "racket of the sort, Sire."

Coridan eyed the servant cautiously. Surely the poor fellow would not perjure himself at the expense of his office, but as he listened carefully, he realised that the ceaseless sound of yelling, screaming and fists seemingly banging against the old wooden doors of the palace were not to be heard.

"Ah...must be my mistake then," the second prince murmured.

It was then that muffled yells interrupted their conversation.

"There it is!" Coridan shook the servant. "Do you not hear it?"

The servant trained his ears toward the sound's origin before agreeing with the prince's second assessment. "Yes, Sire. I believe...if I am not mistaken, that it comes from your brother's private chambers. May I ask what is so amusing, Your Highness?"

The inquiry came as Coridan burst out guffawing, his laughter echoing throughout the hall and through some parts of the palace.

"Sir, I do believe that you are in complete ignorance of the fact that I am in the possession of at least five brothers and seven sisters. Attempting to search every nook and cranny of each brothers' room is out of the question considering the circumstance," Coridan explained to the servant. "So, if you have particularly sharp ears, I would very much wish to know if you may use them to find out which brother you allude to."

The servant shrugged, a completely cheeky gesture that the prince allowed to slide in repaying him for the amusement of the previous statements uttered. Instead, Coridan trailed after the servant, who marched purposefully on, this time on the hunt for the origin of the incessant, and louder by every moment that passed, yelling.

When the servant stopped at a particular door, Coridan was quite surprised. They had stopped at Evzen's door.

"Surely there must be some mistake!" the prince disputed. "My brother, Evzen, is a quiet..."

The unmistakable sound of furniture being hurled at the door, followed by a long line of abuse, made even the servant's eyes grow wider. "Sire, I do not think that—"

"Do you mean to tell me that you dispute my knowledge as to whether or not the inhabitant of this room is my brother, the third prince?" Coridan bristled a bit, annoyed with the idea that the servant was now questioning his judgement. Training his gaze to the door, he added: "Perhaps it _is_ not my brother but a scorned woman?"

The servant said nothing to this, but had laid down his linen and was making his way to the door. "Should we open it, Sire?" he asked.

Another piece of furniture was hurled toward the door, causing it to shake an awful lot. This was followed by another long line of abuse: "He is absolutely out of his mind! Locking me in here! Evzen, let me out! Immediately! Or I shall tell father of this wretched behaviour of yours! Let me out, Evzen!"

"By the gods, it's Hyacinthus!"

A vexed look passed over the servant's face, but it disappeared as the prince pushed past him and thundered at his youngest brother to cease his loud calls. "Hyacinthus, is that you? For the sake of us all, would you please cut it out?"

"Coridan? Coridan, is that you?" an excited voice called from the room.

"Yes, yes," the second prince replied. "Now what's this all about? Yelling and hurling furniture isn't like you in the least bit."

"Coridan, you must get me out! Immediately! Evzen will be in trouble if you don't let me out! I have to stop him!" the sense of urgency in the youngest prince's voice was unmistakable. The servant watched as Coridan produced a key of some sort and fitted it into the lock of the door.

Moments later, a blur of a person ran passed the servant and into the arms of the second prince with a panicked declaration of "He locked me in!" The servant eyed the young prince suspiciously as he clung to his elder brother's clothes and poured out his story.

After the tale had been told, and the excitement seemed to have been taken down a notch, Coridan expressed his disbelief: "I believe you are making up stories again, Hyacinthus. You very well know that it is not a pleasant thing to bear tales of such proportions against our brother."

Perhaps it was in desperation, or maybe frustration—or a little of both—that the young prince shook his brother hard. "You accuse me, brother, of bearing tales!" he roared as loud as his voice could possibly roar. "I will have you know that I do nothing of the sort! Evzen did too lock me in these chambers!"

Coridan wrestled his robes from his brother's impassioned grasp, surprised at the vehemence of Hyacinthus' denial. If this was so, then perhaps the alleged culprit would do better to enlighten him in the understanding of this matter. The young prince was quite out of breath and his face was an angry flush had settled itself upon his face.

The servant watched as the second prince tried to soothe his brother. "I think it best if we talked this over with Evzen. That way we do not go about hurling objects and abuse at shut doors."

A dangerous glint appeared in the eyes of the youngest son of Amyclas. "You don't believe me, brother?"

Coridan gave his little brother a pat on the head. "Surely there must be _some_ exaggeration in your tale, Hyacinthus."

"You _don't _believe me!" was the incredulous cry of the seventh prince.

The servant saw that the second prince wished to smack himself against the wall. It was as though every word he said made the situation even worse than it already was. "I believe, Sire, that what His Highness, your brother, meant was that it would be best if he heard the prince Evzen's side of the story. This way he can best assess the degree of offense the prince has made against you. It is not, Sire, that His Highness does not believe you. It is merely that he wishes to be just to both of you as you are all brothers, Sire."

_Perhaps, I've said too much_, the servant thought as two pairs of very similar eyes were looking at him in a manner that expressed surprise and shock.

"I-Is that so?" Hyacinthus murmured. Turning to his brother, he begged forgiveness for having charged so without having thought of his brother's intentions.

"Think nothing of it, Hyacinthus," Coridan replied, affectionately. "It is a small matter and we shall resolve it as soon as you should like."

Hyacinthus, thanking his brother with a quick hug, began tugging him at the general direction of the room of the invalid to whom the servant was to bear the linen. He stopped, having spotted the heap of linen that was lying on the ground. Letting go of his brother's arm, Hyacinthus quickly picked up the linen and hurried off.

The servant would have gone after the prince and his cargo had not the second prince stopped him. "Let him," Coridan said. "What's a little manual labour for a princeling like him? Although I must thank you for your help at managing him; he can be quite a handful."

"Make no mention of it, Sire. I saw and heard nothing," the servant replied with a bow.

"Nevertheless, I thank you still," Coridan added before bidding the servant to be on his way, as he, following in the wake of his younger brother's footsteps, made his way to the invalid's room.

Slowly, yet surely, the servant turned about and made purposeful steps toward another part of the palace. _Indeed_, he thought, _Your Highness need not make mention of it. _

Taking out a small vial from his pocket, the servant held it to the light of the sun and examined its contents. The dark reddish purple liquid swirled about. _In fact, it should be I who ought to be thanking you, Your Highness_, the servant slowly descended the stairs, being sure to make a turn to his right. As he did, the servant's appearance began to change ever so slightly. His dark hair was replaced by stunning blonde hair and the brown colour of his eyes seemed to wash out with each step he took, revealing a pair of pristine azure eyes.

And it seemed as though, with each step he took toward the egress that led to the gardens, the 'servant' began to fade—ever so slowly—from sight. Having reached the end of the hall, the sunlight streamed down on him unrelentingly.

When the gardener looked toward the door as he quietly pruned the bushes, he could have sworn he saw someone standing there...although it seemed as though the person was semi-transparent for he could see through him. He shut his eyes, thinking the sun was playing tricks on him. When he opened them and trained them again toward the door, he found no one there.

"It must be the sun," the poor gardener muttered to himself as he went on with his pruning. Little did he know, a young Immortal was making his way toward Olympus bearing with him a vial whose contents were to play a vital role in the sinister plot he was weaving in his mind.

**To be continued**

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A/N: I am on a roll! I finally figured out how to link all my chapters together! :D Please don't think I've forgotten about poor Eurus and the overprotective South Wind! I'm weaving them into the story sooner than you think. And perhaps you ought to look out for a surprise...at least in the North Wind's direction! Thank you so much for the support! (Oh and if you haven't picked out as to who the "servant" is supposed to be—please read the earlier chapters again because it'll jog your memory!) Please review and tell me how you like to so far!


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

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The lightness of step, bolstered by his current disposition, bore him to Hecate's abode was uncanny, considering the foul mood the Poet-god had found himself earlier that day. _I hope I have not come in vain_, Apollo thought as he made his way into his cousin's garden.

It was a strange habit of his to avoid entering his cousin's abode through the front door. Her father did not take lightly towards the inhabitants of Olympus—distantly related they might be. So he had always taken care as to avoid the god of destruction. His aunt, on the other hand, was of a relatively sunnier nature. Astreria, when he was a child, used to pinch his cheeks and coo at him as she peered into his crib. Now that he was grown, she took to giving him affectionate pats instead—sometimes on the cheeks, and sometimes atop his golden head of hair.

Fortunately, Hecate had inherited some of her mother's kind nature while her father bequeathed her with the beauty that would rival even the goddess of beauty herself. Apollo—though he would never admit it aloud—thought her the prettiest among all his cousins. What with her ebony black hair, soft pale skin and her oh-so-beautiful purple eyes, she was perfection in his eyes.

Once he had taken to declaring that his own sister was perfection personified, but when he had been faced with the astounding beauty that was the daughter of Perses, Apollo found himself drawn to her dark, captivating beauty, and—forgetting he was professing his sister's good points—declared, in impassioned tones, that Hecate was a beauty above all.

As time passed, his fascination with his cousin had turned from a mild infatuation to another sort of emotion altogether. Perhaps it was love, perhaps it wasn't. But to the god of truth, it did not matter in the least bit that he had not a name for the emotion he felt. Artemis called it his "warm and toasty feeling," for he had once described it to her in words that were less artful, and mocked him for his constant gazing at Hecate whenever she arrived at family parties.

_Of course she would mock me!_ Apollo mused with a hint of bitterness. She was the chaste Huntress. _She has never—not once—fallen in love with...with any god or mortal, for that matter. I should have known her spending so much time with Athena and Hestia would cause this lack of sympathy toward my predicament_.

Caught in his reverie, the lyre-playing god would have gone on walking had not the sound of someone stirring caught his attention. Apollo almost dropped his precious cargo as he surveyed his cousin's garden—hoping to chance upon the 'intruder.'

Lo and behold, who should he see but a reclined Eurus, fast asleep in Hecate's hammock!

"What in the name of grandmother Gaia is he doing here?" the son of Leto let out a soft whistle. "And I thought that overprotective brother of his _never_ left his side."

He gently laid the blossom he had brought for Hecate in an empty basket he found on the ground before making his way toward the hammock's side. Curiosity had gotten the better of him for he had never seen the East Wind's sleeping face for whenever Eurus would make as though he were sleepy, the South Wind had always carried him off and away to his chambers.

_This should be interesting_, Apollo slowly crept to one side of the hammock where Eurus was facing and peered closely at the face of his cousin's cousin.

The long lashes caught Apollo's attention and he marvelled at how long they could grow, before realising that Eurus did indeed resemble Eos. His golden blonde hair and his soft, blue eyes—they were the very trademarks of Eos herself. This was while his two older brothers were an odd mix of both parents and his younger brother was a complete replica of Perses' brother, Astreus. The twins were bright and glowing—of course, having taken after their mother too, but Eurus did not just resemble his mother. For some good reason, Apollo had always thought that should Eos and Eurus switch places, no one would have been able to tell the difference. Their natures were so similar!

It wasn't long before the sound of horse's hooves thundering could be heard. Whoever it was Apollo was not privy to as this particular guest had taken to the carved doors of Perses' abode. Fearing it to be his sister, whom—at least for the moment—he did not wish to engage in any sort of conversation, Apollo quickly clambered up one of the older trees in the garden taking with him the blossom he had brought as a gift for Hecate.

How mistaken he was when out of the marble home came Hecate who walked straight toward the hammock. Without much ceremony, she wakened the slumbering Anemoi ever so gently and informed him that his brother was here to pick him up.

The East Wind sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he asked sleepily which brother had come.

"Which brother do you think?"

Apollo nearly fell out of the tree in sheer surprise. He would recognise that voice anywhere! And it told him that his day could not get any better for it belonged to the very person he would least wish to encounter—even more least than his own sister—for it was the South Wind who came to the garden.

The East Wind sat bolt upright and turned to Hecate with the look of someone who had been betrayed.

"Come now, Eurus," Hecate soothed her cousin. "Notus has been looking all over for you."

Eurus seemed half-appeased at this but then his brow furrowed. If his brother _had _been looking all over for him...how long had he been asleep?

"Long enough," was the South Wind's sterner reply.

Hecate threw a warning glance at Notus' general direction. Sometimes she did not understand how it was that the South Wind could not care less about other gods but could wrap himself about the East Wind in such a manner. "You've been asleep for a couple of hours now," Hecate comforted the East Wind who was beginning to look morose.

The South Wind was making his way toward the egress that led away from the garden when the East Wind murmured something that was inaudible to everyone on scene—even Apollo, who was still hiding among the very leafy branches of the majestic tree in Hecate's garden. But it was enough to stop the South Wind, who turned about, and demanded that the East Wind speak clearly.

"I-I'm sorry...for...for running away..."

Apollo watched as whatever trace of the anger that was left in the South Wind completely dissipated with the apology made by the East Wind.

"That's better," Hecate said approvingly as she gave the Eurus soft pats on his bowed head. She threw a questioning glance at Notus' general direction and was rewarded with an incredulous stare accompanied by a questioning raised brow.

Letting out a sigh, the South Wind assured his brother, in not so many words, that he accepted the apology so could they please head home?

"Oh! I've almost forgotten mother's presents for you!" Hecate gave a clap of her soft hands. Taking Eurus by the arm, she headed into the house. "You'll have to bring them with you as I can't come around next week to bring them."

The South Wind followed in the wake of his cousin and his brother's footsteps, but before reaching the egress, he hid himself from view behind one of the pillars of the house. Apollo, on the other hand, thinking that all three had left the garden, proceeded to climb down from his hiding place. Just as he was about to check the blossom to see if it had incurred any damage on his descent, he heard the chilling voice of the South Wind.

"And what brings you to this part of the world, Apollo?"

The god of truth mentally cursed himself for being a fool as to believe that his presence would escape unnoticed. "Oh, hullo Notus! Fancy running into you here," Apollo decided to hope for the best.

One glance at the South Wind told Apollo that the former was not in a mood for congenial conversation. Instead, Notus bridged the gap between them in three long strides.

"I do believe I've told you to stay away from my brother," the South Wind replied coldly.

"Listen, before you jump to any wild, if not odd, conclusions, I was perfectly unaware that that brother of yours was here." Apollo was quick to defend himself. He was the son of Zeus! How dare this upstart think himself better than a son of Zeus! "You certainly are a perfectly overprotective—no, stay—smothering brother."

A murderous look came and went on the South Wind's face. For a moment, his eyes flashed and his somewhat pale cheeks were of a livid red colour. But this moment of rage passed as quickly as it arrived. The cool, calm demeanour of the South Wind returned.

"I warn you, Apollo. If I hear so much as a singular complaint from Eurus, I swear by the river Styx that I will guarantee you the most miserable immortal life you can imagine," and with that, the South Wind left.

It took some time for Apollo to catch his breath. All the anger that had disappeared on his way to Hecate's had reappeared. Only this time, it was focused on the Anemoi in general, and the South Wind in particular.

"Just what is it about those brothers that make me despise them so much?" he muttered to himself.

A cry of surprise interrupted him.

Looking up, he saw a very stunned Hecate's wide purple eyes on him.

A smile spread itself on Apollo's face, replacing the scorn he had only moments ago on his face. Taking out the blossom he had plucked, he presented to his cousin before giving her a kiss on the cheek as a salutation. "You wound me, Hecate. Are you not pleased to see me?" he beamed at her, pushing away all thoughts of anger against whatever Winds there be.

**To be continued**

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A/N: I hope you liked this chapter too. Thank you for he continued support! Everything's beginning to come full circle.


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek mythology. Granted some characters are my own.

A/N: Hello my dear readers! I hope your enjoying the story as much as I try to find time to scribble the chapters down. We're currently on a four-day holiday (but today's the last day) so I hope you have fun reading this chapter. If you want to review (or complain about anything), I'd be happy to hear your thoughts on my piece! Thank you and enjoy!

"Another day, another chore," Talus muttered to himself as he picked up a basket of clean linen from the laundress.

"Take care that nobody hears you say that," one of the women charged with the laundry cautioned him. "You should consider yourself fortunate to work for the likes of these Royals."

Talus sniffed. If being ordered about was considered "fortunate," he hated to think what being "unfortunate" consisted of.

"Where am I supposed to bring this?" he asked as he made his way to the door.

"That linen is for the Prince Cletus," the Head Laundress replied before turning to reprimand the giggling laundry women. She responded to the questioning brow Talus raised with a "they've taken a fancy to the Prince after he dropped by one afternoon looking for some item of his."

"Ah..." Talus shrugged, exiting the room before he could hear anymore of the whispers and giggles exchanged by the women. Why infatuated females resorted to the unsightly art of giggling was beyond him.

As he made his way to the fourth prince's private chambers, Talus pondered on the idea of the proper manner in which a woman was to show her state of infatuation. In the depth of hi pondering, he walked slower than his usual brisk pace with his mind deep in thought and his eyes concentrated at nothing in particular.

He would have gone on in such a state had not a whiff of something that smelled sweet, refreshing and—strangely enough—unnatural caught him by the nose, causing him to make an abrupt stop and turn toward the source of the scent.

Imaging his surprise when he caught himself staring at the youngest prince's "constant companion," as the visitor had been dubbed by the servants—inclusive of disapproving sniffs from the women and knowing glances from the men.

Fortunately for Talus, the visitor was neither looking at him nor had he taken notice of the slack-jawed servant blatantly staring at him. This gave Talus enough time to arrange his facial expression into a proper, subservient look before he caught the visitor's attention.

"Is something amiss?" was the stern query of the dark-haired guest.

Talus shook his head. "Oh no, sir. I was merely caught in a reverie." _How odd_, he thought. _I could have sworn I caught a whiff of nectar somewhere_.

The guest eyed the servant suspiciously, at least that was how Talus perceived the Royal Family's guest was looking at him, before dismissing him altogether in the rudest manner possible: turning his back to him and making his way toward the other end of the hall without so much as a backward glance toward the servant.

"So much for manners," Talus sniffed as he continued to make his way toward prince Cletus' private chambers.

He had to admit, though, that the guest he had encountered was intriguing. He was quite the enigma. No one in the palace, save perhaps the Royal Family, knew where he was from nor the purpose of his visit. All anyone knew was that he had arrived about the same time the seventh prince, Hyacinthus, arrived from who-knows-where.

_Ah, but that isn't quite true_, Talus realised as he rounded the corner. He had been present when the second prince happened upon his youngest brother locked in the chambers of Prince Evzen. When the Prince Hyacinthus had been released, such a story tumbled from his lips that the Prince Coridan could only stare at his brother in wonder.

And, of course, since he had been present, Talus had heard snippets of the tale the youngest prince bore: There was a guest in the palace, and—in so many words—he had earned the ire of the third prince, who then berated the guest ("who is ill, brother!") after he had not addressed Hyacinthus properly. When prince Hyacinthus attempted to explain, his brother had locked him away.

Unfortunately, Talus was not privy to the conclusion of the rare event, which was why it was some time before the servant finally laid eyes on the guest.

It happened during a "small" family banquet for the Royal Family. The occasion could not have been the opposite of its description for at hand were the six sons and the seven daughters of the King.

The guest was also at hand, having been invited by the King himself. And it was easy to see that the tale of the seventh prince was quite true as the second prince constantly glared at the guest. If he was not glaring, he looked furious—all the while masking it with a completely disinterested look on his face.

But his eyes were a dead giveaway, especially when he saw his youngest brother plying the guest's plate with food and his cup with water. And all the servants saw his.

"Did you see the way Prince Evzen glared at the guest this evening?" was a question that went on in the kitchens after banquet.

It would have gone unanswered (and Talus curiosity unsatisfied) had not one of the cook's assistants replied that it was but natural for a brother to feel usurped by a complete stranger.

"That explains a look of murderous intent?" another fellow assistant said, incredulously. "I don't see how a guest deemed a usurper can warrant such a look."

"You haven't been here long enough then," the first assistant retorted. "Prince Evzen dotes upon the young prince. He was the one who helped raise him."

"Perhaps it is something else," one of the wine servers snickered.

"What could you possibly mean?" the cook's assistant snorted. "What other reason could there be?"

"Oh you've no idea of the endless possibilities!" the wine servers chortled loudly.

Talus had slipped away after this part of exchange, but he was certain that the servants would have gone on into the night with their debate.

So Prince Evzen was not pleased with the guest?

It was not surprising. Even Talus felt greatly unsettled when he had lain eyes on the guest, whose hair was as black as the darkest nigh and whose eyes were terrifying as they were engaging for he looked as though he were capable of doing the worst things imaginable without breaking a sweat.

Up the stairs Talus clambered, bearing his cargo, still deep in thought.

After the small banquet, it seemed as though the guest had become part of the family—or, at least, the youngest prince's retinue. Wherever Prince Hyacinthus went, the guest was there too.

Such behaviour fuelled talk, and jokes as to whether or not the guest had taken liberties with the prince were passed 'round the servants' quarters. Luckily no member of the Royal Family had ever heard them, else everyone would suffer the wrath of a livid Prince Evzen.

Stopping at the door of Prince Cletus' private chambers, Talus recalled the manner in which he had been dismissed by the guest. How was it that a mysterious guest, dubbed by gossip to be the prince's "constant companion" could find the licene to be uncivil toward servants?

_Unless, of course, he was an Immortal..._

Talus shook his head. _That has yet to be confirmed..._he thought as the door to Prince Cletus's chambers opened.

**To be continued...**

A/N: This chapter done! On to the next one!


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek mythology.

Haycinthus felt oddly bothered, though it wasn't because of the heat. Rather, it cause was of a different nature.

He had recently been in the company of his mates: friends around his age who were the sons of his father's own acquaintances. And it was in this company that a most disturbing news reached his ears.

They had been lazing about in the Royal Gardens when Iphis, who had been fanning himself with a huge leaf to keep cool, suddenly spoke.

"A little bird tells me much has happened in the Palace as of recent days."

Hyacinthus looked up from where he had been weaving flowers into wreaths to pass the time. "What do you mean?" he asked in all innocence, unaware that this was to be the beginning of his 'bother.'

"It means that Iphis has caught some sort of gossip and means to pass it along to us," Theoclymeneus sighed before covering his eyes once more with a scroll he had, earlier on, been reading.

"I am not a gossip!" Iphis cried out as he sat up.

"Sure, you aren't" Rasmus rolled his eyes as he continued to play with a stray puppy he had found.

"I am not!" Iphis reiterated his strong denial, this time attempting to hit Rasmus with his makeshift fan.

"Ramus never said you were," Lichas snapped before taking a bite from the fruit in his hand.

Iphis stuck his tongue out at Lichas, who simply shrugged. But Hyacinthus had jumped at the bait and was now wondering as to what news his friend had heard. Unable to control his curiosity, the prince finally inquired of his friend on the nature of the news.

Iphis, pleased that at least one of his friends had shown an interest in his tidbit, broke into a grin and settled himself next to Hyacinthus. "Do you know of that guest they have in the palace?"

"What sort of query is that, Iphis?" Rasmus called out. "Hyacinthus is one of the King's sons! Of course, he would know of the guest."

Iphis glared at Ramus, before turning back to Hyacinthus with a saccharine smile. "I'm sorry, 'Cinthus," he said, calling the prince by his nickname.

Haycinthus nodded. "It's no matter, Iphis. But what is this news of the guest?"

"Ah!" Iphis recalled he had been in the middle of relaying his most important information yet. "Apparently, the guest has formed an attachment of some sort."

Hyacinthus' hands stopped their weaving.

"An attachment?" he echoed.

Iphis nodded knowingly, glanced sideways before whispering into Haycinthus' ear all he knew without giving away the identity of 'the little bird.'

Hyacinthus felt as though a bolt of lightning had hit him. He must have looked it, wide-eyed as he was, that Iphis was soon laughing about his expression.

"You needn't look the least bit surprised," Iphis said as soon as he had sobered. "As Rasmus says, you live in the Palace so I'm assuming you're privy to these things."

"I assure you I am not," Hyacinthus half-murmured, half-whispered, still in a state of shoc.

"Iphis, stop messing with Hyacinthus," Theoclymeneus rebuked. "He might do something stupid—no offense, Hyacinthus—like the time you told him that putting pomegranate seeds in your ears would save you from death."

Iphis launched himself at Theoclymeneus, fan and all, and a tussle began as a somewhat disturbed Hyacinthus watched while Rasmus tried to pry Iphis off their friend.

Lichas, noticing that Hyacinthus was shaken with the news Iphis had imparted to him, gave the seventh prince a pat on the shoulder.

"Don't let it bother you," he said kindly. "You know how Iphis is. He just like to get a rise out of people, that's all."

Hyacinthus nodded as he thought: _But what if the tale were true?_

Thus began his oddly bothered feeling and his sleepless nights.

He took up the habit of staring at the West Wind when the latter was in some form of conversation with any servant. Whether it be the West Wind giving orders or the servant informing the West Wind of certain things, Hyacinthus watched most carefully.

This went on for about a week, until the telltale signs began to show. It was Evzen who had first noticed it, while the brother were out for a morning ride, the West Wind in tow.

"You should have stayed home," the third prince had said. "You look exhausted."

Hyacinthus gave his brother a weak smile. "I'm fine, brother. Please do not trouble yourself."

"Evzen is right though, Hyacinthus," Kyros, the crown prince, agreed. "You've got dark circles around your eyes. Have you been sleeping well?"

Hyacinthus nodded.

"Coridan, do you not think he looks unwell?" the crown prince called to the second prince who was in deep conversation with the fourth prince and the West Wind.

Coridan looked up and studied his brother's face. "Yes, you should get more sleep," was his pronouncement.

"Perhaps he is getting the stirrings," Cletus laughed.

Hyacinthus blushed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Cletus!" Evzen snapped. "If it were the stirrings, Hyacinthus would have told us something in relation to it."

Cletus shrugged, the turning to the West Wind, he asked: "What do you think, Xenos?"

The West Wind studied the youngest prince, his piercing gaze looking over Hyacinthus as though he were documenting every details he saw.

Hyacinthus did not dare to look up lest he catch the eye of the West Wind and the latter be privy to all his thoughts, for though they were constantly together, Hyacinthus was still in awe of the West Wind.

"Lack of sleep," was the West Wind's conclusion.

Hyacinthus heaved a sigh of relief but the declaration of victory was premature as the West Wind went on to say in a voice that seemed audible to Hyacinthus alone: "Perhaps pondering on some little tidbit of news he heard...from a friend."

Hyacinthus felt a shiver pass through him. And this did not escape Evzen's notice.

"I think it best it you went back," Evzen said, completely unaware of the last statement that had escaped the West Wind's lips.

Hyacinthus would have protested had he not noticed the dangerous glint in the West Wind's eye, the latter having taken the reins from his hand when he wasn't looking.

Instead, the youngest prince allowed himself to be led in the direction of the palace with his companion while the rest of his brothers went on their way.

**To be continued...**


	20. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology—just some of the characters.

A/N: Thank you very much for all the support. I've received good feedback so far. Also I'd like to dedicate this chapter to **buecherwurm91**, whom I would like to thank for adding me to her "favourites" list.

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The stables were a busy part of the palace. Left and right were servants charged with the well-being of the animals, making their way as they brushed the horses until their coats gleamed. It was their task to see that the horses were always fed and watered.

It was also a part of their occupation to see that the stables were clean, so once in a while they embarked on a lavish cleaning spree that involved brushing and scrubbing and washing the walls and floors of the stables. This prevented the horses from contracting any diseases and dying.

And it was into this very scene that the West Wind rode in with Hyacinthus.

Some of the servants quickly rose to help the prince and his companion.

One untied Hyacinthus's horse's reins fromZephyr's saddle, while another held Zephyr's horse still as the latter dismounted.

It was evident that the West Wind needed no help in dismounting. The prince, on the other hand, was a different story.

The horse Hyacinthus had ridden out with was slightly smaller in stature compared to those his brothers and his guest had ridden. As he was the youngest, his father dared not to put him on a horse that would "surely break hi neck."

Instead, Amyclass preferred that his younger son ride horses of a gentler disposition, and of smaller stature—just in case the horse does not prove to be of an endearing nature and suddenly runs wild, Hyacinthus could easily dismount and the fall to the ground would not hurt as much as if he had been riding a steed of taller stature.

Unfortunately, halfway through their journey back to the Palace, Hyacinthus' horse suffered a splinter on its leg, which was quite painful as the poor beast's eyes told the West Wind, who had looked the animal over.

"Is she all right" Hyacinthus asked as the West Wind stood up from examining the splinter.

Patting the mare's flank, Zephyr shook his head. "If you continue riding her, it will hurt her leg—what are you doing?"

For as soon as Hyacinthus heard the conclusion, he had slowly decided to dismount lest he further his faithful horse's pain. As he did so, in his hurry, one of his legs tangled with the reins, and he failed to dismount completely as one of his legs stood on the ground while the other remained hanging among the reins.

The West Wind silently untangled the prince's leg as Hyacinthus covered his face in embarrassment.

"I'm terribly sorry," the prince murmured after Zephyr had released his leg. "I didn't notice that—"

The West Wind said nothing as he examined the horse's leg again. Whispering some words in a language unknown to Hyacinthus, he soothed the horse as he brought out a small knife. Slowly and steadily, he made a small cut around the splinter before pulling it out. Then, as soon as this was done, he tore some strips from his cloak and wrapped it around the horse's wound.

"That should do for now," he sad as he patted the horse once more.

"Did it hurt her?" Hyacinthus asked as he pat his mare's nose gently. "I hope it hasn't. She's a very good horse."

"Not as much as leaving the splinter there," Zephyr replied, pocketing the knife and disposing of the splinter. Taking the reins of Hyacinthus's mare, he tied it to his own saddle. "You'll have to ride this horse for now."

The prince's eyes widened. He? Ride Zephyr's horse? He stammered.

"I don't see what the problem is," the West Wind replied. "If you ride your poor beast, she'll probably die of it. Whereas riding my horse will prove less fatal to all involved."

"I've never ridden a horse that big..."

The West Wind's questioning brow rose ever so slightly but it was enough to put the young prince to shame as he quickly explained the reason why he was forbidden to ride such beasts.

When the prince suggested that he would walk back, the West Wind shook his head. That was out of the question.

Hyacinthus stared. How could walking be out of the question?

"In case it has escaped your notice, your horse has just had a splinter removed from her leg," was the severe reply. "And while you may prefer to lose a limb or two as you make your way home, I—on the other hand—would prefer to keep my limbs intact."

Perhaps it was the West Wind's tone, perhaps it was his expression. Whatever it was, Hyacinthus allowed himself to be hoisted up the horse after which the West Wind mounted behind him and they rode to the palace.

Considering the manner in which they rode in, not to mention the West Wind having been dubbed as the Prince's "constant companion," the pair suffered exchanged knowing glances and stifled grins. And while one of the pair was completely ignorant—of what was passing among the servants, the other felt bothered by it...especially when he was lifted from the horse and placed on the ground. He could see the knowing glances replaced with looks of surprise.

How the prince longed to get away from the stables! He would have made a break for the entrance to the palace had not the West Wind stopped him.

"Your horse, your Highness?" There was a condescending tone to the manner in which Zephyr reminded him of his mare's state.

"Please see to her injuries," the prince asked the servant to whom the West Wind had motioned to. "She has suffered a splinter to her leg."

The servant bowed and led the mare away while the other servants bowed before resuming their work—and spreading gossip Hyacinthus thought mortified.

Hurrying away from the stables, the Prince failed to notice a pair of blue eyes studying him, watching hi, with an air of intrigue in them.

The West Wind barely glanced at the prince's general direction of escape as he addressed the servant regarding his own horse. "It hasn't met the same misfortune as the prince's mare," he said.

A relieved sigh escaped the groom's lips before he realized what he had done. A half-horrified, half-mortified look crept into the servant's face as he looked at the West Wind.

Zephyr dismissed the sigh with a slight shake of his head. "See to it that both horses are thoroughly watered and fed," he added before walking toward Hyacinthus's early exit.

The mortified groom nodded and led both horses to the safety of their stable.

The West Wind's exit would have gone without incident had not the latter felt a pair of eyes watching him ever so closely, as though making a careful study of his person.

Without a second thought, Zephyr looked up and found himself appraising a pair of oddly familiar eyes that stared at him from the dark confines of a window on the floor of the upper chambers—the same eyes that had escaped the prince's notice as he beat a hasty retreat into the Palace.

The West Wind's eyes narrowed and a dangerous glint appeared in his piercing grey eyes. For a moment, he held the gaze of those azure eyes when they suddenly disappeared.

It was at that moment, Zephyr noticed that some of the servants were watching and whispering amongst themselves, making none-too-subtle gestures toward his general direction.

Ignoring them completely, the West Wind made his exit just as a servant from the Palace emerged from the entrance and beckoned him in.

**To be continued...**


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology.

A/ N: This chapter is dedicated to **brpetal**. Thank you lots! :D

* * *

As Selene emerged from her abode and slowly rose to her zenith, two Immortals were in deep conversation as they strolled through the forests that surrounded the temple of Zeus in Crete.

Hermes, the messenger-god, walked with a sense of purpose. Among all the gods, his was probably the most charmed existence.

At least, that was what his half-sister, Artemis thought. After all, while all their father's mistresses—her mother included—suffered the jealous wrath of their stepmother, Hermes' mother had quietly given birth to the young god without incident or accident.

Their brother was raised by his own mother and his aunts, the Pleiades, and his existence would have been obscured from them had he not taken a slight fancy to steal his half-brother's cows.

Imagine their father's delight at seeing his young son at Olympus the very night Apollo discovered the thief. He roared with laughter as Hermes regaled him with tales of men and their daily lives.

And unlike his other half-siblings, stepchildren of Hera, who—for a time—also suffered her wrath, he placated her with a gift of a golden ball that had wings and the request that she treat him as her own as he would wish for nothing more. This, topped with a kiss he placed softly on Hera's white cheek, softened the oft hard heart of Zeus' queen and she embraced him as her own son.

Such was her affection for her stepson tat when he went on his visits to his mother, the goddess became quite distraught although she never showed it. Instead, it manifested in her bouts of impatience and at night, she would often be found sitting near a window, watching and waiting for the return of her stepson.

And when he did return, he always bore her a gift of some trinket or cloth fashioned by his mother as a gift for her fellow goddess.

A smile played upon Artemis' face as she pondered on her half-brother's fate.

The smile did not escape Hermes' notice as he watched his half-sister. _She is one of a kind_, he thought.

Not that she was chase, for Athena and Hestia had taken the same vow to let not their hearts be stirred by the mischief of their nephew or their half-sister and niece, respectively, but that she was her own person.

By choice, his half-sister had taken her love for the chase to a whole new level by seeking the office from her father. It took much coaxing and prodding to convince Zeus that she would be excellent for the job for the god feared that such an office would cost her her life.

But Artemis was cunning as her elder half-sister, Athena. She taxed her father every day on her request for the office. She did not employ the usual tactics a woman used when she wished to obtain something. There was neither whining nor weeping that invaded the palatial residence of the gods.

Instead, she taxed her father—_incessantly_. Hermes suppressed the smile that threatened to plan on his face as he recalled how his father had finally yielded to his half-sister's cunning strategy.

On the third month that she had mentioned the office to their father, Zeus was already at his wits end.

"When will you give up, child?" The god roared. "I haven't seen a woman as determined as you since I met Hera. Granted, Athena is equally, if not more, determined than the two of you combined."

Artemis laughed in her impish way as her uncles, Poseidon and Hades, told their brother it was Fate's way of paying him back.

"You deserve a challenge every now and then, brother," Hades said.

Poseidon, leaning on his trident, grinned. "I doubt he understands the challenge this child will bring to his house."

"She used to be a quiet little godling," Zeus muttered. "Until someone—I still haven't figured out who—gave her that blasted bow. She hasn't given me a moment's peace from then on."

"Kittens grow to be cats," Hades half-whispered, half-said as he turned to his niece. "And it just so happened you have two kittens turning into cats."

"What's all this talk about kittens, godlings and bows I hear?" The unmistakable sound of Athena's voice wafted into the room as the young goddess entered with little Hermes in tow.

Artemis ran up to her elder half-sister and gave her a hug. "Father won't give me the office I want, 'thena."

Athena stared at her little half-sister for a few moments. "Hunting, isn't it"

Artemis nodded.

"I don't see why she doesn't deserve it father. She DOES best everyone in the Hunt," Athena said in her strong clear voice.

Zeus crumpled at hearing this while his two brothers exploded in laughter.

"You'll probably never hear the end of it now, brother," Poseidon said in between bouts of laughter. "Athena's joined the fray and you've no one to blame but yourself."

"Not to mention, Artemis has the look of a conquering hero," Hades added.

Zeus glared at his brothers but this did not cease their laughter. Instead, they laughed even more when little Hermes, who had clambered up his father's lap when no one was looking, held his father's face in between his hands and forced the god to stare at his son.

"Fa'er me wans an offish soo!" the little rascal declared.

That did it. Even Athena had to smile as her uncles doubled up in laughter and a triumphant grin danced on Artemis' face.

Zeus was speechless as his son clapped his hands jovially and kept saying: "Offish!"

"You children will be the death of me," the King of the gods groaned as he released himself from the hold of his son. "Very well, Artemis. You may have the office. Just remember to—"

But Zeus never got finish his speech for his young daughter jumped up and down with glee as she hugged her half-sister tightly before running up to her father and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Her little half-brother, in his bid to congratulate his half-sister, pat her head with his little hand and said: "'Temi has an offish!"

Artemis laughed as she kissed him. "Yes, brother. I believe I do."

"Well, you're deep in thought," his half-sister's voice invaded Hermes' memory of the blessed event.

"Forgive me, Artemis," the messenger-god said with a smile. "I was thinking of the time you received your office."

The Huntress exclaimed at this as she grabbed her half-brother's arm. "You cannot be serious! That was ages ago!"

"It is a pleasant memory."

"I suppose it is. Goodness, how father must have spent many a sleepless nights wondering how I fared!" Artemis laughed.

Hermes watched her as she laughed. All the goodness of youth belonged to his half-sister, and their father was not mistaken in rewarding her with her chosen office and a little bit more, for Zeus had also given his daughter the guardianship of youth.

"You deserve it, Artemis," was the messenger-god's assurance. "I'm certain father knows this as well as I do."

"You flatter me, brother," the Huntress smiled as she held onto her half-brother's arm.

"Au contraire, dearest sister," Hermes replied. "I never flatter family."

"How amusing you are, Hermes!" exclaimed Artemis. "Say 'dite asked you for your honest opinion on a dress she wore, what would you say?"

Zeus' youngest immortal son's brow furrowed for a moment as he thought of an appropriate reply. "I'm guessing I'd tell her that it doesn't suit her the least bit."

"You wouldn't dare!" Apollo's sister retorted. "She'd shun you for eternity and make sure our nevvy made your life an absolute misery."

"Oh, she may so as she wishes," Hermes shrugged. "It matters not to me."

A troubled look crept into the face of his half-sister, and though it was dark in the forest, Hermes saw it come and go. He remarked on the change and she responded by sticking her tongue out at him before breaking out into a somewhat weary smile.

"It's Apollo."

"I thought as much," the messenger-god nodded. Whenever Artemis seemed weary or exhausted, most of the time the culprit was her brother, the poet-god.

Apollo seemed to make a habit out of exhausting any god or goddess he was with. Being his family did not make you immune to this. Rather, it made you even more susceptible to becoming one of his victims.

"Don't say that, Hermes," Artemis murmured.

"Someone must," Hermes continued grimly. "He's been as selfish, conceited and manipulative as ever and it's about time someone did something about it."

Although she shook her head, Artemis knew her half-brother was right. Apollo had a tendency to being self-centred, and vexing as it was, she had not a clue on how to remedy the situation. He was older than her—though by mere minutes—and though he may give in to her every whim or desire, there were times when a certain sort of ferocity entered him and he became stubborn, sullen and, sometimes, unkind.

During the past few days, Apollo's behaviour had changed drastically. He snapped at everything said n his presence and more than once threatened the mortals who worshiped him in poem and song.

"I'll cut off their tongues if it'll make them stop," he had cried out in a rage as he stared into the mirror that allowed him to view his many temples.

Their mother had tried to coax and cajole her son into a more pleasant disposition but he would not be turned. Instead, he became gloomy and morose until their mother, having exhausted all efforts, excused herself and left him to his own devices while she spent some time with other relatives.

But it didn't cease Apollo's behaviour in the least bit. It only got worse.

The night before, Artemis had just arrived from a late night hunting spree with her nymphs. Having bid them a goodnight, she went straight home to Olympus.

Lo and behold, who should she stumble upon—alone in the dark—but her older brother! He was sitting in the middle of the hallway with a pitcher of fermented nectar in his arms, muttering to himself about the trickery of—

She had not heard who—or what—had tricked her brother for when he looked up and saw her, he reprimanded her for her late arrival.

"Where have you been? You should have been home hours ago!" He roared as he staggered to his feet. "You know better than to gad about at so late an hour!"

She had yelled at him to leave her alone, that her business was her own...and that he had no right to undermine her authority as a goddess. Artemis knew she'd have said a lot more had not Apollo done the unexpected.

As he stood there, listening to her reprimand him, Artemis noticed that he brother seemed quiet. When Selene—for but a moment—peeked through the dark clouds of the night, she thought she saw tears glistening in his eyes. When he suddenly went on his knees and took her hand in his, she thought he had gone mad and tried to pull her hand away. But he held her fast and kissed her hand and softly murmured an apology.

She was certain that somewhere along the lines of the gibberish her brother was saying, there was an apology in there for her. Most of it was meant for someone else.

Hermes listened intently to his half-sister.

Perhaps the sudden mood changes of his half-brother had everything to do with a visit he had paid to a certain goddess, some days ago.

The messenger-god's brow furrowed and his half-sister smoother the lines away.

"Don't take it against him, Hermes," she pleaded. "Our Apollo must have suffered some hurt that we aren't privy to."

Hermes shook his head. "As to that, Artemis, I still think he owes you a magnificent apology." _And I'll need a private audience with Hecate as soon as possible_, he added in thought.

"Do you hate Apollo, brother?"

Hermes started. Why in the name of the cosmos was Artemis asking him such a question?

"Why do you ask?" was his somewhat wary reply.

"I don't know," Artemis shrugged. "I just thought I'd ask since we were just speaking of him and his affairs."

Hermes suffered a few moments fo self-debate. Ought he to tell his half-sister that any love he bore his half-brother was only out of his family obligation and nothing more than that? Or ought he to perjure himself and assure her that he bore his half-brother no ill-will?

"No," he said, cautiously. "I don't hate him—"

He was caught off-guard when she suddenly wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. "I'm so pleased you don't h—"

"Yet."

Artemis paused. "Yet?"

"I don't hate him...yet," the messenger-god finished and watched as his half-sister's eyes widened in surprise and her lips form a realising "Oh."

"Do you hate me for it, 'Temi?"

Artemis looked up and saw the eloquent eyes of her half-brother staring softly down at her. His mother had also been famous for those very eyes, which was probably why their father...but did she hate him for telling her that he had great potential to loath her brother sometime in the near future?

She shook her head. "I could never hate you, Hermes," she softly whispered before pressing his hands to assure him of her affections.

The wry smile on the son of Maia's face escaped Artemis' gaze as she turned to look about the forest. He kissed his half-sister on her forehead before taking her hand. "Come along then, sister o' mine."

**To be continued...**


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Greek Mythology.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to **SucreTeen 123**. Hope you like it!

* * *

Hushed whispers filled the temple as the Royal Family of Laconia entered. It was the feast of Demeter and, as their harvest had been plentiful, the people of Laconia thought it only right to give the gods what was due them.

The sons and daughters of Amyclas watched as their brother, Galen, assisted in the sacrifices. He had been invested as a priest of the gods when Hyacinthus had been a bit younger and since he was stil young, he had not yet been given rein to oversee a sacrifice on his own.

After the ceremony of the sacrifice was done, the people flocked out of the temple and began their revelry in the streets of Laconia.

Food was spread out, there was dancing in the streets and laughter filled the air.

It being his first time to witness such an event, the West Wind was somewhat amazed to see the people in celebration. Instead of following the rest of the Royal Family back to the Palace for a banquet, he stayed behind at the temple—taking care to leave Hyacinthus in the capable hands of his tree elder brothers.

The prince Galen stayed behind as well to help in the cleaning of the temple.

Tearing his eyes from the revelling crowd, Zephyr turned his notice to the many altars of his fellow gods. It might have been a celebration of Demeter's gifts but the people still took time to pray at various altars, even going as far as to leave tokens for the gods.

Aphrodite's altar was plied with gifts and as the smoke rose, he could still hear the various prayers that had been uttered by the goddess' worshippers.

"Please make her like me..." said one.

"Make him take notice of me during today's festivities..." another begged.

"Give me success when I ask for her hand..." went a third.

The West Wind shook his head as he moved along the line of gods and goddesses. The things mortals did in search of love, to him, seemed even more preposterous than they looked.

Apollo's altar was filled, though not as much as his half-sister's nor his own sister. The Huntress' altar was filled to the brim. The fact that she was a goddess did not even deter her worshippers from seeking her favour in the upcoming hunts.

Zeus, Hades, Hera, Poseidon...the row of imposing images of the gods along with their many altars seemed endless and it was some time before the West Wind reached the altar he shared with his brothers.

Unlike their fellow gods who had massive if not beautiful sculptures of their image, the Anemoi's pedestal had nothing on it except a marble slab onto which was carved the inquiry: "Who has seen the Wind?"

Their altar though was a completely different story: it was full. Wafts of smoke rose up and he heard several petitions asking the "Benevolent Winds, please bring my father back," or "Mighty Winds, my brother is aboard a fishing boat, please bring him back."

The West Wind frowned. What did these people take them for? If their family members were at sea, was it not best to seek protection from Poseidon?

It was them that the petition of two little boys rose from the smoke of the altar. It was simple and, although their words were somewhat garbled what with them being children and all, it touched even the somewhat hard heart of the West Wind.

"Deaw Wins," it went. "Thank you fow giwing us a coow win las night. It was wewy nice. Ouw papa and mama aw gone and hawe not come 'ome yet. Pwease tew dem we wan dem 'ome? Thank you."

A smile crept into the West Wind's face. This was one petition he would certainly grant. He let loose a gentle breeze to send the boat on which the parents of these two children were, to steer them toward their home.

"You should be at the Palace, joining the revelry," a voice gently said.

Zephyr turned to see the fifth prince, Galen, in his white priestly robes, holding out a fruit to him.

Refusing the fruit, the West Wind assured him that he had seen enough of the revelry to understand that the same thing—granted, in a grander scale—was happening in the palace.

The smile that spread across Galen's lips and that brightened his face caught Zephyr by surprise, for unlike Hyacinthus who possessed dark hair, Galen had blonde hair. Both brothers though had the same deep emerald green eyes that anyone who chose to could willingly drown in.

"I hope all is well between you and my brother," the prince went on to say. "Occasionally, he can be a handful but Hyacinthus would never want to feel as though he were causing someone any iconvenience."

The West Wind eyed the prince sharply. Had his youngest brother come to him bearing tales?

"He's our youngest brother," Galen went on. "Our mother died giving birth to him. She only managed to kiss the new babe and ask our father to give him a name, then she died."

Zephyr gave a short nod to indicate that he was listening to the prince. Other than that he stood in stony silence.

"We lost another member of our family previously. Has Hyacinthus ever mentioned it to you?"

The West Wind was startled. Lost a family member? Aside from their mother?

"You may wonder why Hyacinthus is the seventh prince when a sixth prince has never been introduced," Galen explained. "Our brother was born a bit too early and, as in most cases, he expired but a few moments after our mother had given birth to him."

_Seven sons, six living, is enough for any man_... Especially one in Amyclas' case wherein the sons were meant to keep the line going while daughters were meant to cement alliances. And the King had seven daughters of his own too. Seven sons and seven daughters was not too harsh a number for a man his dotage.

He said so to the fifth prince, who nodded with a smile. "Many of our father's guests say our father has done well in marrying our mother and that she, in turn, has done well in securing the throne and the kingdom in the children she bore our father."

_How the mind of men work_, the West Wind thought. Once they reached power, nothing but keeping it occupied their thoughts. Although, perhaps in the case of Amyclas and his beloved wife, the children were the result of the happy union they shared.

"Do you have any brothers of your own, sir?" Galen asked.

What harm was there in answering the prince's query?

"I've five brothers of my own. Three elder than I and two younger," he replied.

"And no sisters?"

"No sisters," the West Wind added. "But plenty of female cousins on all possible levels of proximity."

The prince laughed at this.

"Do you have cousins?" Zephyr ventured to ask since it was rude to allow but one party to do all the inquiring in a decent conversation.

The laughter died and the prince's expression turned grave and pensive. "We used too..." he murmured. "Until the god Apollo and his sister, Artemis, struck them down for an insult their mother, our aunt who was also a queen, had given them."

Zephyr had heard of this. The queen's name was Niobe and she had borned her husband seven strapping sons and seven beautiful daughters. And because of this accomplishment, she boasted to the gods that she had fourteen lovely children while the titaness Leto had a mere two. Never mind that the latter were gods, what mattered to her was the number.

"What happened to your aunt?"

The prince shook his head. "She went mad with grief. Our uncle could not stop her when she took her life at the altar of Apollo. A tragic end to a tragic tale."

"And yet you yourself are a priest," the West Wind murmured.

Galen nodeed. It was true. The irony had strick him when his name had been called by the Chief Priest of the main temple of Laconia. His name had been whispered by the oak trees that had been planted in the temple gardens, oak trees taken from Dodona and replanted in Laconia.

One could not go against the wishes of the gods and the fifth prince soon took his oath as a priest. It was a hard life as he did not live within the Palace like the rest of his family but instead resided in the temple like the rest of the young men in the same calling.

At first, he missed his family terribly. There were nights when he would cling to the altar of Zeus and beg him to set him free from the task, but the king of the gods was firm. As time wore on, he grew accustomed to his fate. And his brother and sisters did their best to alleviate his homesickness and visited him whenever they could, which was often.

"Do you sometimes wish you had a different fate?" Zephyr's voice interrupted the prince's thoughts.

"Don't we all?" the fifth prince replied with a look that stirred the heart of the West Wind to pity that he leaned down and kissed the young prince on his forehead.

The startled prince looked up and peered into the grey eyes of the West Wind as though searching for something and the West Wind allowed him to do so.

Then, as though he had found the answer to his unspoken query, the prince whispered into the West Wind's ear: "Thank you, Lord Zephyr" before placing a kiss on the cold cheek of the god.

When the West Wind had left the temple, prince Galen watched his retreating back as he made his way down the steps of the temple.

The West Wind had a kind heart, the prince had seen it in the piercing cld grey eyes that seemed as though they held not a single warmth in them. But would a heart such as that of the West Wind's be enough to withstand that which Fate has allotted him?

"You do not deserve so cruel a fate," Galen murmured before shutting the great doors of the temple.

**To be continued...**


	23. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to **VanilLemon Sky** and **Whitetail 24**. Thank you very much for the continued support.

* * *

"And where have you been?" The unmistakable voice of the third prince inquired as soon as the West Wind reached the last flight of stairs leading to the grand banquet hall.

"The temple," was the curt reply.

"Come now, Evzen," interrupted the fourth prince. "It's the feast of the grain goddess, and he is our guest."

Evzen shot his brother an annoyed look before disappearing into the banquet hall, barely giving the West Wind another glance.

"You will have to forgive him." Cletus grinned good-naturedly. "He has a tendency to temper when revelry gets quite out of hand."

The West Wind's brow rose.

"You'll see" was all the fourth prince said as he threw open the doors to the banquet hall and its contents were revealed to the inquiring guest.

There were long tables along two sides of the hall where the food was served and the guests took their pick. All across the room were scattered couches where anyone could recline. The scent of wine was heavy in the air as roaring laughter and coarse talk flowed freely. What surprised the West Wind was the lack of women in the room and he voiced this discovery aloud.

Cletus laughed. "The women have their own banquet hosted by my eldest sister, which is less loud and more refined. The only women permitted in this hall are the entertainers."

Zephyr's eyes quickly scanned the room. True, the only women he saw were clad in uniform dancing attires, but they weren't dancing...at least, not anymore. Instead, he saw some of them gracing the laps of several of the King's generals while the others were flirting uncontrollably with other members of the court. It was best not to get into the details of it.

The realization that the seventh prince was not among the visible in the hall caused the West Wind to inquire of the fourth prince about the presence of his brother.

"Follow me," Cletus said as he led the way through the crowd.

As they made their way across the room, the West Wind could not help but compare the banquets in the mortal realm to that of his home.

The gods' banquets were similar in that there was free-flowing nectar and an abundance of ambrosia, but also differed in certain aspects such as the presence of women in the room. Certainly there was entertainment: the Muses provided the music and the Graces danced. Occasionally, the nymphs did a dance or two but there was certainly no untoward behaviour during such events wherein a nymph could suddenly sit herself on the knee of any god.

Perhaps that was why the goddesses were present during such events, so as to keep such behaviour to a minimum.

"You'll find him in there," Cletus' voice drifted into his thoughts and he saw the prince motion toward a modest makeshift tent on one side of the room. From the shadows that were cast on the side of the thin fabric, the West Wind saw not one but four inhabitants.

"A tent?"

Cletus shrugged. "That's what I said, but my brother said it was the best overall protection from such scenes."

_Ah, the overprotective brother strikes...again_.

"Ought I to go in and announce you?" The fourth prince asked as he parted the tent flaps. "Or would you rather I ask the guards to see you in?"

As soon as he said that, the two soldiers guarding the entrance of the tent came out.

"The latter will do," Zephyr replied before exchanging short bows with the fourth prince. The fourth prince returned to the revelry while the guest entered the tent.

oo00oo

Earlier that day, Hyacinthus could barely contain his annoyance as his brothers informed him that he _would_ be joining them during the banquet but he and his friends would be limited to one side of the room.

"That isn't fair!" was his outburst. "Why can't I join the banquet formally as you all do?"

While the Crown Prince tried to clear his throat, the rest of the princes looked uncomfortable. Only the third prince was staunchly firm.

"You wil stay on your side of the hall, Hyacinthus, or you may as well inform father that you are indisposed," was the stern response Evzen gave his brother.

"I am not indisposed," the seventh prince cried.

"Listen, Hyacinthus. This is for your own good." The crown prince managed to say. "Certain 'things' occur during banquets and much as we would like for you to join us formally, we would prefer if you didn't witness such things just yet."

"You're just saying that!" Hyacinthus fought back. He would not allow himself to be swayed but what seemed to him a completely pathetic reason to limit his access to the banquet hall.

"Hyacinthus, listen to—" the third prince ceased his speech as the West Wind entered the room, oblivious to them all, bearing several scrolls in one arm and studying another held in his hands.

"Finally, someone who can see reason with you!" The fourth prince exclaimed as he called the attention of the West Wind and asked him for his opinion on the matter.

Zephyr listened as the elder brothers presented their argument, although Evzen said nothing but only glared balefully at the 'intruder' even when said intruder sided with the princes with such a simple response: "Do as your brothers say."

It wasn't normal for Hyacinthus to thwart the authority of the West Wind. He never questioned the being on orders issued and decisions made, but at the moment, he was feeling very much betrayed—by whom exactly, he wasn't certain—that he threw the first thing he could get his hands on—a cushion—and threw it at the West Wind's general direction as he shouted: "Traitor!"

The next thing he knew, his brothers seemed frozen in time, shocked and surprised expressions on their faces, while he was being pressed against the wall, a tight grip around his neck.

"Say it again," a cold order issued from the lips of his attacker.

Hyacinthus shook his head as he struggled against the firm grip of the West Wind. He dared not open his eyes lest he see those cold grey eyes staring at him with a strange intensity that terrified him.

The West Wind leaned closer and whispered the order into the seventh prince's ear as he tightened his hold on Hyacinthus' neck.

Hyacinthus shook his head. "No..." he whispered back in a quivering voice.

The West Wind released the prince, and calmly watched as Hyacinthus struggled to catch his breath, before lifting the enchantment he had placed on the other princes.

"Hyacinthus!" Having not been privy to the exchange, the Crown Prince reprimanded his brother. "He is our guest. Apologise to him this instant."

Hyacinthus gave a barely audible apology as the West Wind watched with an expressionless face. The Crown Prince added his apologies to that of his brother's, which the West Wind dismissed with a calm: "It is of no consequence" adding that perhaps the young prince had something to say to his brothers.

When his brothers turned to him, Hyacinthus found himself agreeing to the rules his brothers had laid down as his conditions in being allowed to attend the banquet.

"I'm glad you saw our end of the argument," Hyros said as he gave his brother a pat on the shoulder.

The third prince exchanged curt nods with the West Wind before he and his brothers exited the room, leaving their youngest brother and his guest to prepare for the visit to the temple and the subsequent banquet.

"You forced me to say those words..." the prince accused the West Wind as tears welled up his beautiful green eyes, "How could you..."

Ignoring this, the West Wind picked up the scrolls he had dropped, if one could call it "picking up." It was as though he had willed a slight breeze to lift the scrolls into his hands.

As he made his way out, the West Wind paused at the doorway and said: "I am not always so merciful" before exiting the room.

oo00oo

The morning's events replayed in the prince's mind when he saw the West Wind enter the ent where he and his friends had been deposited by his elder brothers. And it was purely by his impulse that he suddenly held fast onto Theoclymeneus' clothes, causing his friend to turn to him and ask if anything was the matter.

Before Hyacinthus could reply, Rasmus, having caught sight of the West Wind, demanded that he name himself and did he know how rude it was to simply enter the tent without any introduction?

A dangerous glint appeared in the eyes of the West Wind but he obliged the youth and introduced himself as the guest of the Royal Family, Xenos.

"Oh, it's you!" Iphis clapped his hands with glee. "We've heard so much about you. Is it true that y—"

Lichas elbowed Iphis sharply before the latter inquired as to the newcomer's personal affairs. Turning to Zephyr, he offered his hand for a shake, while introducing himself and the others.

The West Wind shook his hand and murmured something about it being a pleasure to meet the prince's friends before directing his attention to Theoclymeneus, who had been attempting to untangle his robes from the prince's firm if not nervous grip.

"Come now, Hyacinthus," his friend chided. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd taken a fancy to me."

"What a flirt you are, Theo!" Rasmus roared in laughter.

"And with the prince, no less!" Lichas added.

Upon hearing this, Hyacinthus released his hold on his friend's clothes and apologised.

"Well, well, well. This is an interesting development," Iphis said in a tone that caused the West Wind to turn to him with a glint in his eye that dared Iphis to continue.

Hyacinthus' friend broke into a grin when he saw the West Wind's face. "You're taking it to heart, Xenos," he laughed. "I was merely teasing. Besides, it's not like you're wooing Hyacinthus."

The West Wind felt his brow furrow as he watched Theoclymeneus give the prince a pat on the head, assuring him that what he said was in jest and that no apology was required.

"You seem confused, Xenos," Lichas called from his side of the room. "Iphis has tendency to exaggeration, you see."

Iphis launched himself at Lichas and a scuffle ensued as Rasmus tried to pry the two off of each other, eventually joining the fray after the culprits socke him by accident.

Hyacinthus watched at a safe distance as his friends went at one another with loud calls of "Take it back!" and "No surrender!" being exchanged as they traded hits. He was immensely worried lest one of them would get hurt or sustain serious injuries.

Finally, Theoclymeneus, having tired of his companions' loud battle calls, stood up and made his way toward the scuffle.

In the midst of all the excitement, the West Wind found himself observing the scuffle from beside the prince's couch. He watched as the seventh son of King Amyclas wrung his hands nervously as he waited for the warring parties to declare a ceasefire while Theoclymeneus' attempts to separate the three made no progress for as soon as he pried one friend off the other, the thir would launch on a whole new attack against the second.

"They won't kill each other any time soon," the West Wind found himself saying in an irritable tone.

Hyacinthus could only stare at this. _Kill each other?_ He thought. _Zeus forbid!_

Hospitality laws clearly stated that hosts had to look after the well-being of any guest they opened their abode to. True, said guests were a rambunctious lot, but should any harm befall them, it would be his—rather, his father's—head on the block, figuratively speaking.

The West Wind was very much irked at the sight of the prince wringing his hands that, without much thought, he grabbed both hands and pried them apart.

"That will be enough hand-wringing from you," the god said sternly.

Hyacinthus' green-eyes grew wider as he watched the West Wind stalk over to the triumvirate of loud squabbles, who were now ganging up on the peacekeeper, with shouts of: Get 'im!" and "Shut it!"

As the West Wind pulled Lichas, Iphis and Rasmus off Theoclymeneus—without breaking a sweat—and settled them in their respective couches, he realised that his twinkling brothers had never given him a difficult time. Hesperus and Esosphorus were saints compared to these hoydens!

Theoclymeneus thanked the West Wind for the rescue then, rounding on the three culprits began scolding them with regard to their deplorable manners.

"Oh, please do stop fighting..." The prince begged, worrying that berating would cause a full-on skirmish.

Theoclymeneus had turned to the West Wind and was thanking him for the hand he had given. "I apologise sincerely on their behalf," he added. "They have a tendency to being rambunctious."

"It is no matter," the West wind said as the pattering of feet could be heard. Suddenly, the flap of the tent was raised to reveal an irate Evzen and a seemingly amused Cletus.

"Your Highnesses," Theoclymeneus said in salutations as he gave a respectful bow.

The second prince, ignoring his brother's friends, proceeded to making his way to Hyacinthus' couch. Noting the worried expression on his youngest brother's face, he gave the dark-haired prince a pat on the head before inquiring if all was well.

The seventh prince was silent, hovering between committing perjury or informing his brother of the truth.

Fortunately, Cletus picked up on the sign and stepped in, saying in his moderate manner, "It is as I have observed, Evzen. They were all having a little tussle. That much is evident as these three are out of breath." Pointing out Lichas, Iphis and Rasmus, the fourth prince deflected his elder brother from questioning their brother any further.

"Very well then," the third son of Amyclas' concluded, sounding wholly unconvinced. He got up and, giving Hyacinthus another pat on the head, thanked his brother's friends for attending the banquet before heading out.

Grinning at the three culprits, Cletus observed to them the lot of elder brothers was a hard one. "They have a tendency to overreact at the slightest provocation."

As none were elder siblings, the trio could only nod in agreement. Theoclymeneus noted that the third prince seemed highly irate, adding that perhaps his companions would prefer to spend the rest of the evening in a manner befitting a priest or hermit.

"In silence?" Lichas replied, incredulous. "Surely not. This is a banquet and banquets are meant for celebrations."

"He is right, you know," Cletus added matter-of-factly. "It would be a shame if you were to pass on the night in silence. Allow my broher to pass the night in his own irritable manner, but—by all means, gentlemen—you must enjoy yourselves."

Iphis stuck his tongue out at Rasmus, which caused the latter to smack him soundly on the head.

The fourth prince only laughed at this exchange. "They are quite a handful, aren't they?" he said, addressing the West Wind.

_Quite?_ "In a manner of speaking," was the response.

"Oh, by the by, I have been meaning to ask you," Cletus took a date from one of the dishes and commenced eating it whilst making his inquiry. "There is this little bit I heard this evening."

Hyacinthus, who had been planning to join his friends on their corner of the tent, paused midway to standing up and slowly sat down again as Rasmus and Iphis continued their miniature brawl watched over by ready-to-intervene Lichas and Theoclymeneus.

The West Wind signalled the prince his approval to continue with a curt nod.

"You needn't look so stiff, Xenos," the prince laughed. "I only meant to ask if you spoke to Galen at the temple. One of the temple guards saw him in deep conversation with someone and he sent me a note informing me that a tall, pale stranger was speaking to my brother. And since you stayed behind after the sacrifice, I could only conclude that the stranger he spoke of was you. What with his being posted at the temple, and therefore, little exposure to the goings-on within the palace, his description of the stranger he saw my brother conversing with seemed to fit you perfectly."

"Yes, I did meet your brother," the West Wind calmly admitted. "He's quite young for a priest."

Cletus nodded. "That is, indeed, true. But who are we to question the will of the gods?"

"Do you mean to say he was summoned?"

The query was posted with a tone of incredulity, or so it seemed to Hyacinthus that before the youngest prince could stop himself, he exclaimed that his brother was "very much deserving of the responsibility," revealing himself to be eavesdropping on his brother's conversation. It earned him a disapproving look from the West Wind who then pronounced that he was merely inquiring as to whether the fifth prince had chosen his profession, of vice versa.

Hyacinthus reddened as Cletus explained the history of Galen's occupation.

Upon hearing that the oak trees from Dodona were the harbinger of the fifth son's current profession, the expression on the West Wind's face was severe. Cousins or not, his family rarely ever socialized with the Olympians—except for the occasional celebration of birth or marriage.

The stern expression escaped Cletus' notice but caught the eye of Theclymeneus, who had been studying his friend's guest for some time. The manner in which Xenos stood seemed to indicate himself at a higher rank than the princes. And the authoritative, somewhat tyrannical, tone of his voice gave sway to the idea that this was a normal visitor. But who or what could be higher than the son of a king than a king?

_But he wasn't introduced to us as a king..._Theoclymeneus mused.

No, if the introduction wasn't given as such, the only other option was that the visitor was a god.

But did the gods ever come down from their lofty peaks and mingle with mortals? Of this he wasn't quite certain though he had heard stories of it._ If he was a god, then he ought to have special sort of powers..._It had been three months since talk of the guest had reached the people of Laconia. _Three months without a display of supernatural powers? _Theoclymeneus shook his head. Preposterous!

"If he was truly an Immortal, he would have revealed himself within the first few days of his arrival." As was the case in most stories he had heard.

"Mumbling to yourself again?" Rasmus elbowed his friend "You know you ought not to make a habit of it. People might think you—"

"Mad as a boar!" Iphis finished.

"Exactly," Rasmus agreed.

"I wasn't mumbling," Theoclymeneus scowled. "I was thinking aloud. "He added watching as Hyacithus' brother laughed at something their guest had said.

"Well, I must be off," the prince declared after some moments. "Father will wonder where in the world I've been. You boys watch yourselves: tumble about but mind your manners."

"Yes sir!" Rasmus and company gave a resounding reply which caused Cletus to grin again before turning to his brother to whisper some instruction or another. He earned a somewhat pitiful "Must I?" that he rewarded with a "You must" before mussing his brother's hair, clapping the shoulder of the West Wind and bidding the latter to "see that he"—motioning to his youngest brother—"retires at a decent hour."

As they watched the prince exit the tent, Lichas murmured: "I thought you said it was one of the servants he was having goings-on with, Iphis?"

"That's what I heard," Iphis said insistently.

"It seems like nothing of the sort," Lichas snorted. "Highly unlikely too...Seeing as..."

"Seeing as what?" Iphis snapped.

Shrugging, Lichas decided not to divulge the result of his observations. He had been watching their friend most intently as Hyacinthus sat between his brother and his family guest, and in doing so, he was enlightened as to the exact degree the prince's regard for the guest was.

He and Theoclymeneus exchanged knowing glances, much to the consternation of Iphis, who began to protest—most loudly—causing Rasmus to muffle his indignant cries with a hand over his mouth.

**To Be Continued...**


	24. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology. (How many bloody times do I have to keep saying this?)

A/N: I do apologise to all my readers who've been very, very patient with me. Work has been a whirlwind and the only decent time I could get some scribbling done was ten in the evening, which used to be a productive time for me...until I started working. Don't get me wrong though. I do love my job to bits, it just saps the creativity out of my writing brain. I also suffered from some lapses as I had to keep reading through the previous chapters—having been unable to recall all the stuff I wrote. I will also admit that I was this close to discontinuing this story...until I received a review from...**tekken4life** (Did I get that right? If I didn't I apologise now and will amend it on the next chapter. It was most encouraging and the next thing I knew I was researching like mad to continue this lovely story. So you will have to pardon me if updating takes some time (fortunately I haven't received any flames yet). Do give me your opinion on the matter. I really would like to know how the readers perceive my writing. Many, many thanks for the continued support and I hope the continuation does not disappoint.

This chapter is dedicated to **tekken4life** for the very inspiring review!

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Eos was a doting mother.

That much was established from the manner in which she had raised her "little darlings," as she had dubbed her sons from the moment of their birth. Nothing could, or would, deter her from showering them with her motherly affection and woe to him who could thought he could do otherwise.

From the moment her sons opened their eyes to the time they closed them to enter the world of slumber and dreams, Dawn was there to kiss them and whisper how much she and her husband loved them. Perhaps it was properly so as her husband, being a god of few words and even fewer actions—unless it concerned a family member in some dire predicament—would never have done so.

This certainly changed when the Anemoi, being altogether too much that their parents' abode could not handle four gods as varied as they, transferred to the Isle of Aeolia where they managed quite serenely as they could...the key word being quite.

Their mother, for a time, was beside herself with anxious worry. She worried as to whether they ate properly, went to bed at the right time—their welfare in general.

"Eos, all this fretting is really nonsensical," Astraeus had said to his wife as he looked at the sleeping twins—Hesperus and Esosphorus—lying in their crib, unaware of their mother's cares.

The glare the goddess threw her husband would have slain him had looking been equivalent to mass bloody murder. Fortunately, it was not, and Astraeus was all the more wise to let his wife worry about their elder sons, who were equally unaware of their mother's fretting.

Of course, they happened upon it on their first visit to the parents' abode since they had left it and settled on their own Island.

The Anemoi descended on their parents abode on fine afternoon on a whim—the North Wind and the South Wind trading barbs, while the East Wind attempted to pacify both parties lest they come to blows. The West Wind watched in perfect, subtle amusement as his brothers bickered about anything and everything. It would have gone on had not they been met by their mother, who having thrown the doors open, quickly ran to them and flung her arms around the first son she encountered. In this case, it was the North Wind.

"Mama, you're crushing me," Boreas exclaimed as his mother kissed both his cheeks and exclaimed at how thin he was, was he eating properly?

To that the North Wind laughed as he accepted her show of affection, before leaning down to kiss his mother in return.

This was followed by the South Wind, who also had to lean down to kiss his mother as both he and the North Wind towered over her as their father and the West Wind did. Their mother exclaimed at how his features had somehow changed.

"Your eyes seem sharper than ever, Notus," she said as she placed a hand on either side of his face and pulled it towards him for her to study closely. "Have you been sleeping well?"

"Yes, mama," the South Wind extracted himself from his mother with some difficulty as she had wanted to study his face a little bit more. "Please do not worry yourself."

A reply was on Eos' tongue but when she turned to see the son who resembled her most in both appearance and nature. She gave a delighted cry as she flung herself at the East Wind, her arms around his neck as she kissed his forehead and spoke of how pleased she was that he was here to visit his mama, and were his brothers behaving themselves?

The East Wind blushed furiously as she pinched his cheeks and proudly pronounced at how he was growing to look more and more like her and less and less than his father and brothers—at this she threw a gentle glare over her shoulder at her elder two sons and stuck her tongue out—much to the horror of the East Wind.

"Mama—" the East Wind began to protest, when a gentle hand placed itself at the small of the goddess' back and a cold voice said: "Mama, do act your age."

Eos turned to the youngest of the Anemoi and beamed happily. "You're no fun at all, Zephy!"

The West Wind said nothing in return, opting instead to give her a kiss on the cheek, which she accepted before grabbing him by the arm and pulling them toward the door, before proceeding to present them with the twins, who clambered up the North Wind's lap much to the consternation of his robes, demanding presents of their eldest brother.

"Ah, you've arrived," their father murmured softly from the doorway of the sitting room, at which his sons suddenly stood up and bid him a fair day, before shaking his hand—with the exception of the East Wind, who dared to kiss his father's cold cheek, as he was wont to do since he was young. His mother beamed even more at this.

Theirs was a happy reunion as they feasted that night. Tales were exchanged, along with laughter and smiles, and even Astraeus managed a hint of a smile which caused his wife to jest that perhaps he was getting soft.

When night had fallen and the twins had been tucked in, the brothers decided it was time to leave.

"Stay the night," their mother pleaded with them, her lovely blue eyes shining. "You can leave tomorrow."

Eurus faltered and would have agreed to her terms, had not the North Wind spoke: "Mama, we're quite grown already. Not to mention, we've a house of our own."

Dawn frowned at this.

Her husband kissed her temple and voiced his opinion on the matter. "He speaks the truth, Eos," the god of dusk said as he gently placed a warm cloak on his wife.

"But I'm their mother!" she shook her head as she held onto her eldest son's hand. "And you will obey me on this matter!"

Boreas laughed at this good-naturedly before kissing his mother atop her head of golden hair—a gesture which she said she did not like as he seemed to imply that she was delicate but which he knew secretly warmed the cockles of her heart—and she knew she had lost the argument.

At this she hugged all her sons whilst whispering to them constant reminders to be good, to stay out of trouble and to look out for each other before bidding them a teary farewell. She watched as her sons mounted their horses and stirred the beasts into a gallop in the direction of their own abode.

To her surprise, the West Wind turned back. He leaned down and whispering ever so softly into her ear, before he rode off to join his brothers: "Mama, we may no longer be godlings, but we will always be your sons."

oo00oo

The goddess of Dawn smiled to herself. She had been brushing her golden tresses that morning when the memory had accosted her mind and insisted on being remembered.

She would have continued to brush her hair had she not been interrupted by a frantic cry of "Mama!" from some part of the abode she still shared with her husband and her youngest sons, the twins. Without a single sign of hesitation, she dropped everything and hurried from the room to one of the rooms from whence the sound had come from.

To her horror, she saw Esosphorus frantically shaking his elder brother alternating between begging and crying. "Hespe, please wake up!"

At her gasp, he looked up, and upon seeing his mother, ran toward her sobbing and talking at the same time. Eos gathered her son in her arms and settling him on her hip, she made her way to the lying Hesperus' side and touched her hand to his forehead.

"Will...will H-Hespe...b-be...f-f-fine?"

Eos turned to her youngest son. "Hespe's just not feeling well, darling. Would you be a dear and get your father for Mama?"

"That won't be necessary," Astraeus interrupted his wife as he swept into the room, his long, flowing robes dragging across the marble floor as he made his way to the elder twin's bed. He sat next to the child before touching a hand to his forehead.

When, at his touch, a sudden spark of black light appeared. It faded as soon as it had appeared but not without causing the god of dusk to frown at the discovery. Turning to his worried wife, he shook his head.

Eos' eyes widened and she bit her lip to gain a better hold on her emotions.

"I'll send for Perses and Pallas," Astraeus said as he made his way toward his wife and youngest son. "And—perhaps—it would be wise to pay Thanatos a visit."

"You don't think—"

The dusk-god kissed his wife's brow. "I am not for certain." Turning to Esosphorus, who was now clinging to his mother as though his life depended on it, he said: "Esosphorus, did your brother eat anything while you were playing yesterday?"

The godling frowned as he tried to recall what he and his brother had done in the day that had passed, before lapsing into a horrified, if not frightened look—his grey eyes wide and his lips began to quiver.

"Do you remember anything?" his father's gentle tone coaxed him.

At first Esosphorus had been so frightened that his reply resembled a blubbering fool's babble until his mother had calmed him down, hugging him tight and kissing his golden head—all the while assuring him that whatever had happened was not his fault and to tell both his parents what had happened.

Hesperus' twin gulped down another sob that was threatening to escape his lips and slowly told his parents what had occurred during the time that he and his brother had been playing, Eos and Astraeus listening in attention. When he was finished, his father ran a hand through his son's hair and—in a rare display of affection—kissed the younger twin's brow before standing and turning to leave the room.

"You did well, darling," his mother assured him when he raised his worried grey eyes to her, although he did notice that her mind was not with him at the present as her pensive eyes gazed at her husband's wake, willing that their suspicions would not come true. "You did well."

**To be continued...**

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A/N: Voila! Chapter 23 is done! I'm finally updating my fic! Tell me what you think about it, okay? I'd appreciate the reviews very much. That way I can at least figure out which direction I should stir this story toward.


	25. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Still don't own Greek Mythology.

This chapter is dedicated to **seekerskull8692** and **mynameiszephyr**. Hope you like this chapter and that it meets up with your expectations!

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If Laconia had but one claim to fame, it was not that their King had sired seven sons and seven daughters. No, much as it would give many a king something to gripe about, Laconia's one true claim to fame was not their King. In fact, it was not even the King's sons, who were undoubtedly blessed by the gods with pleasing appearances.

Rather, Laconia's true pride rested in the King's daughters: particularly, the triplets and not for the reason you would think.

While kingdoms prized sons over daughters for the continuation of lineage—"although women had every bit to do with it as men," Hera had once grumbled—Amyclas' triplets were special. Certainly not in the way the Graces or the Fates were special, but nonetheless, they _were_ special.

When they were borne, there was a great hubbub in the Palace. Everyone—especially the king—was nearing the end of their tether as such a birth had never been witnessed before by...anyone. True, twins were a rare occurrence but one would have at least set eyes on a pair before their life ended. As such, the succession of three births was a rarity waiting to happen.

Why the rarity chose Laconia's Royal family had yet to be discovered, but that was a matter the king was ready to forget altogether as he waited, and waited, and waited for his wife to be delivered of the three children. When the midwives emerged from the confines of the birthing room, the king was ready to set a swoon with anxious waiting. His face paled as the womenfolk bowed before revealing to him the news that he was to be congratulated on the birth of three darling little angels.

Amyclas—in a moment of sheer relief mixed with joy—momentarily forgot that he was king and set about hugging the midwives before remembering that his wife was still in the birthing room. Having received a nod at his unspoken inquiry as to whether he could see his queen, he entered the room and, assuring the queen that he was both pleased and relieved, made the acquaintance of his "three jewels."

Five years later saw the Princesses Yalene, Fontini and Leora terrorising their brothers to distraction and causing their elder sisters to fret over "proper decorum and ruined clothes." No amount of reprimanding and raised voices deterred them from their adventurous spirit that sometimes their parents often wondered how they came to have daughters like the three.

"They're hoydens!" an exasperated Coridan muttered as he attempted to salvage his scroll from his sisters' "desecration" of it.

"You will cease that at once!" Kyros' commanding tone was soon drowned out by three voices who chattered happily, pleased to ignore their eldest brother while silently ripping a hole in their fourth brother's cloak. Cletus gave chase and the three scampered off only to bump into a disapproving Evzen who held up a damaged sandal demanding who it was that allowed their father's hounds to lay waste on his belongings.

When three, unashamed and barefaced hands rose in unison, Evzen growled angrily and launched into a long reprimand that consisted of "when will you three grow up," "do you have any idea what you've done" and "listen to me when I address you."

But no amount of scolding stopped the princesses.

"I've had enough," Terentia was won't to say more than once, after having been summoned by her brothers—with the exception of Galen, who lived in relative peace with his rambunctious sisters, as they had considered him a kindred spirit.

Coridan had laughed loudly at the idea when it had first been introduced. Kyros had questioned his dear little sisters on "why do you not torment Galen as much as you do us?" after they intentionally spilled wine on his brother's couch after declaring that Kyros had ought to be useful and go fetch their ball which had fallen into the pond—even though Galen was quite unoccupied at the very moment and had even offered to fetch it for them.

"Galen's a kindred spirit!" the three declared in unison, aghast that someone had thought that they would order their dearest brother around.

It wasn't until they were seven that the triplets would become even more famous that they already were as the first set of triplets to be borne on the face of the earth.

They had come with their mother to visit the temples. At the time, Euphrasia, their second sister, was set to be married and their mother, wishing to see her daughter blessed with the same happy marriage she had made, had gone to the temple to offer a sacrifice to the goddess, Hera.

Whilst this was happening, the three princesses, having been left by their mother in the care of an elderly priest who saw to the temple's gardens, had followed a little puppy they had spied wandering around the gardens only to find themselves quite "misplaced"—as they claimed they never got lost, ever.

It wasn't until they heard a bark at the foot of a huge statue that they realised that they were no longer in the gardens but rather were in the temple, particularly the inner sanctum of Athena, the goddess of wisdom. The tall, imposing statue of the goddess stood at the center of the room and the ruffled puppy was at its feet.

Fotini untied the cloth that had covered her head which Yalene used to wrap around the little animal when she picked it up. It licked her face and sent Leora grinning, until she and her sisters discovered that the poor thing had cut its paw.

"What have you three got there?" a kindly voice asked.

The three sisters looked up to see gentle grey eyes gazing fondly at them. The lady had a smile on her lips, the kind that kindred spirits shared.

"It's a puppy," Leora announced. "We saw it in the gardens and followed it here."

"A puppy? How interesting."

Fotini nodded. "But its paw is hurt and we aren't skilled in healing herbs yet," she pointed to the puppy's injured paw.

The little thing gazed up into the kindly lady's eyes and seemed to feel that she was a kindred too. It licked the hand she used to pat his head.

"Perhaps I can help," the lady offered.

Yalene handed the puppy to the woman. "Will it hurt for the puppy?" she asked worriedly.

"No, you little darling," the woman accepted the puppy softly. "I promise it won't hurt your new friend." And with that she ran a finger over the cut and, with that, the cut had disappeared. "See? Good as new," she announced before handing the animal to its new owners. "What are you going to name it?"

The sisters were amazed at how suddenly the cut had disappeared that it took them some time before they could reply. After some thought, Yalene announced that they would name it Maur, "because the puppy has dark, brown fur."

"That's a good name," the lady smiled as she touched the heads of each of the girls. "You three also have wonderful names, I hear."

"How do you know our names?" Fotini asked, surprised that the lady knew them and yet they knew nothing of her.

"I heard your mother name you when you were born," the woman replied. "Your names mean 'light.' Did you three ever know that?"

Leora nodded. "Father told us one night when we asked him what our names meant."

"Your father is a good and kind king," the woman went on to say in her gentle tone that seemed to caress those who listened to it. "And he has good and kind daughters too."

The triplets beamed proudly at this.

"And as I am a firm believer that one good turn deserves another, I will grant you three a special kind of gift. Now close your eyes."

The princesses did as they were told, even Maur seemed to understand that the moment was a solemn one and sat in Yalene's arms quietly. The woman kissed each of them on the head and murmured:

"To three who posses hearts of gold

I give you the gift to speak so bold

Of truths, things that have yet to be

The future that only the Fates see"

The queen was surprised to find her daughters fast asleep at the foot of Athena's statue, their arms wrapped around Maur, who had also fallen asleep. When she shook them gently to waken them from their slumber, Leora sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before she launched into a tale of how a nice woman with a wonderful voice helped them take care of Maur, with Fotini begging their mother if they could keep the puppy and Yalene adding her voice to this request.

"I suppose you can keep it, if it doesn't belong to the temple priests," their mother acceded, glancing at the elderly priest who had, upon finding that his young charges had escaped him, gone looking high and low for the missing princesses.

"It belongs to not to the temple, your highness," the old man smiled. "The princesses may keep the puppy if they wish it. Perhaps Athena sent it to them that they may be wise in raising a beloved pet."

It wasn't until a few months later that, after having accurately predicted the death of their sixth brother at birth, that their parents discovered the gift that had been bestowed upon their daughters. The king was disturbed to find his three jewels informing their mother gravely that their brother would not live to see the day he had been brought forth to. He reprimanded his daughters severely as the news had pained the queen immensely.

When it had come to pass, Amyclas and his wife requested that the priests come to the palace to solve the mystery of their daughters' ability to predict the future.

That it was a gift from the gods was the conclusion that had been reached.

For a time, it grieved their father to know this as Amyclas had heard tales of princesses gifted with Sight who later went mad with it or ended up not marrying at all to preserve the precious gift given to them.

"Do not be grieved, Sire," one of the priests had assured him. "Perhaps it is the will of the gods that this come to pass...perhaps one day, we know not when, we will come to understand this..."

oo00oo

A worried look crossed Hyacinthus' face.

He had just gotten out from the bathing pool when he discovered that the drying cloth and change of clothes that had been placed behind the dressing screen was gone. Fortunately, he had been the only one in the bathing area so he did not need to endure the reprimands of his elder brothers on the responsibility of preparing one's things or the teasing and wolf-whistles his friend would make at his expense.

_It has to be here..._he thought frantically, throwing glances every now and then at the heavy door that served as the entrance to the bathing area as he looked into vases, under tables and other such furniture that could be found in the bathing area, inwardly praying that no one would come in and see him scurrying about naked as the day he was born.

He was just about to give up when he saw a slip of paper wedged between the doors. Grabbing it, he opened it to find out it was a note from the Mischievous Trio, his elder Triplet sisters. "To our brother, Hyacinthus," the note ran. "We would like to inform you that we have taken your clothes and your drying cloth. We wish you all the luck in the world in getting out of this predicament. Don't bother looking for us as we won't return them to you...yet."

Crumpling the note, Hyacinthus' was furious. How dare his sisters take his clothes without even leaving him the dignity of a drying cloth!

Ever since their return from visiting their sister Euphrasia, who had married a prince from a neighbouring kingdom, they had placed him in more embarrassing situations than he had ever had in the time that they had been gone. The first thing they did when they got back was to pounce on him while he was in deep slumber, even going so far as to tickle his nose with a feather they had plucked from a rooster; after which, they ordered him about.

They poured honey on his sandals, flung balls of mud at him whenever they caught him in a fresh, new chiton and the last straw had been when they pushed him off his horse, into a bed of hay that hid several piglets from view—until he landed on them in an undignified heap, causing the little piggies to scatter.

Though his elder brothers tried telling them off, the triplets never let him be. Claiming it was their special privilege to mess with him, they would go off and be silent only to return with another prank. The latest one—before the theft of his clothing—was them teasing him, rather blatantly, about the royal guest.

"Do you fancy Xenos, little brother?" Fotini had asked as she twirled about in Hyacinthus room.

"What do you mean?" Hyacinthus looked up from the scroll he had been reading, his eyes wide.

Yalene pounded him with a pillow. "You know exactly what we mean Hyacinthus!"

"Well, he _is_ a rather attractive person," Leora said in the sing-song tone she used when she wanted to be extra infuriating. "Of course, you know that, 'Cinthus, don't you?"

"Speak sense!" Hyacinthus murmured before turning back to his scroll.

Fotini dropped next to him on the bed and began pinching his cheeks. "Is that a blush I see, 'Cinthy?"

"Leave me alone!"

"Touchy. Touchy," Yalene poked his ribs. "Don't be so touchy, 'Cinthy."

"Will you three shut it?"

He had paid dearly for the comment. His sisters had tied him up with his hands and feet bound together in a well-placed knot, and left him to be discovered by Cetus.

Hyacinthus would have gone on to relive every single nightmare of a prank his sisters had played on him had not the doors to the bathing area creaked open. Scrambling for cover, he did not notice the puddle of water on the ground as he headed toward the dressing screen.

To his horror, he slipped and fell into an undignified, naked heap in front of a very surprised West Wind.

**To be continued**

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A/N: This awfully horrid weather is ruining my writing mood. Unfortunately, one of the pipes at home sprung a leak—right when the damned typhoon decided to come along. Fortunately, the water just flowed up until the kitchen and hasn't reached the living room or the bedrooms—I was shovelling the water out the back door. And I hope to high heavens that this despicable weather doesn't continue.


	26. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

A/N: We finally encounter Hypnos and his sons! *dancing happily* This chapter is dedicated to **VLSky** and **Lares**.

* * *

"Greetings, cousin," a deep voice greeted Perses' arrival at the imposing residence that belonged to Hypnos and his brother, Death.

The god of destruction calmly removed the hood of his cloak as the meticulously carved doors swung open and the scent of poppies emerged from within the confines of the palace.

Fortunately, being cousins permitted him immunity to the sleepy haze the poppies' scent reduced all mortals to fall dead asleep.

"Do enter," the voice beckoned.

Perses entered the thick doors wrought of iron, which moved as though they were only made of wood.

The craftsmanship was certainly Hephaestus as the intricate carvings on the door proved: it depicted Hypnos and his brother, Tartarus, facing each other surrounded by beautifully carved poppies on Hypnos' side and irises and Tatarus' side.

The hall at the entrance was equally enchanting. The dark marble floors gave accent to the ivory-coloured ceilings that bore carvings of the images of Hypnos' three sons: Morpheus, Icelus and Phantasos.

"Those took some time to finish," an observant voice finally spoke, before revealing itself to be the god of sleep.

Perses suppressed the smile that was threatening to break through his lips. It had been established that Hypnos' children were...to be quite frank, an unusual group.

While the Anemoi had a tendency to thwarting the balance between severity and benevolence and Pallas' ruled by their sister, Tartarus' nephews had—by virtue of their own realms—the uncanny ability to morph themselves into any person one could think of, rather, dream of.

It started a few months after their births and each brother, who was older than the next child had the special privilege of staring down at a younger brother in a crib and shifting into whatever it was his brother dreamed of, with the exception of Phantasos, who was the youngest.

"I suppose Icelus had something to do with that," Perses responded while acknowledging his cousin's presence.

Hypnos gave a nod. "He nearly frightened one of the Muses off after he morphed into a dead beloved and touched her hand in that none-too-subtle way of his."

Icelus possessed the ability to turn into any person who haunted one's nightmares. When Phantasos, whose gift it was to change into any person one fantasised about, was still in his crib, Icelus took sadistic pleasure in frightening his brother by turning into their Uncle Tartarus whenever he peered into his brother's cot.

The nightmare-shifting god did not despise his brothers. He simply derived a greater pleasure that he claimed "warmed the cockles of his heart" when he saw a frightened or horrified face looking into his eyes.

"I will admit that I am grateful to have but one daughter and no sons to my name," the god of destruction noted as he followed his cousin, who motioned him toward an open sitting room that had a view of the garden filled with poppies and irises.

Hypnos laughed in his own drowsy manner. "Perhaps...but I wouldn't trade my sons for anything."

As if on cue, the three brothers entered the room...if one could say entered.

If Perses was to be honest, it seemed as though they had literally barged into the room with Phantasos in the throes of utter joy while Morpheus' lips were fashioned into a severe, stern look. Icelus was latched onto his elder brother's arm and was protesting loudly.

Hypnos cleared his throat.

"Father," Morpheus solemnly bowed, before turning to Perses and bowing to him in turn, "Cousin."

"Morpheus," the god of destruction acknowledged the greeting with a nod of his own.

Phantasos did the same and received a circulating gaze from Perses before his presence was acknowledged by the mention of his name.

Icelus was a different sort of greeting altogether as he shook hands with Perses before turning to his father and saying: "Papa! You must make Morpheus talk!"

Raising a brow, Hypnos winked at his guest in a conspirator-like manner before turning his attention to his son. "And what, may I ask is it about this time?

Phantasos parted his lips to speak but was interrupted by Icelus, who threw an angry look in Morpheus' general direction. "You will do no such thing, 'Tasos! Admit you're on _his_ side, you traitor!"

"I will admit to no such falsehood," was the younger brother's reply.

"Boys!" bellowed their hapless parent, who was still trying to get to the bottom of the situation at hand. He still referred to them as "boys" when they bickered or fought though his sons were strapping, young gods now. "If you would be so kind as to make us privy as t what started all this, your cousin and I would be much obliged."

Perses shot an inquiring look at Morpheus, who had stretched out on one of the couches attempting to ignore his brothers, an inquiring look. The god of dreams glared at him before turning his gaze in Phantasos' direction.

Phantasos gave a sly smile in acknowledgement of his eldest brother's subtle demand and said nothing in answer to their father's query.

Instead, he turned to their guest.

"Pray tell, what brings you here, cousin?" he said in a nonchalant manner.

Perses studied Phantasos for a moment before training his gaze on Morpheus. "Is your Uncle in?"

oo00oo

"And then what happened?" Iphis almost squeaked as he shook Hyacinthus.

Theoclymeneus patiently pried off the excitable boy off their friend while sternly reprimanding him. "Iphis, stop. We're here to visit, not to ply him with countless questions."

"Shut it, Theo." Iphis shot him a glare before turning back to the seventh son of Amyclas. "Go on," he prodded. "Surely that isn't it?" The disbelief in his tone was evident.

They were at the palace garden's surrounded by the many flowering plants and greens that Hyacinthus' sisters cultivated with care. Iphis was sitting by the prince, who was surrounded by cushions, one foot restin delicately atop an embroidered black cushion.

Theoclymeneus had reclined on one side of the cloth the servants had spread out on the grass, taking the time to eat a date slowly as he watched over Iphis lest the boy cause an upset.

"Well?" The curious brow that arched itself was more than enough to leave the prince tongue-tied.

Theoclymeneus cleared his throat as a warning that Iphis was being too pushy. "That's enough."

"You never let me have my fun!" cried the inquisitive boy, indignant that 'Theo'—as he had recently taken to calling the elder lad—had reprimanded him a second time. "I was only asking. Besides, it's not like we haven't heard anything about it."

At this, Hyacinthus' eyes snapped wide open. "W-What are you—"

Theoclymeneus gave as sigh as he pressed the bridge of his nose lightly. This had been the primary reason why he had second thoughts when Iphis had invited him to pay their friend a visit after having heard of his minor accident.

Iphis almost broke Theoclymeneus' door down with all his knocking—rather, banging—the door. When he had finally opened the door, Iphis just rushed right in, words a-flowing: Hyacinthus had had an accident. It was not as serious as it sounded. He'd sprained his ankle into an ugly purplish bruise. And would Theo be a good friend and accompany him to visit the prince?

"Take Rasmus or Lichas with you," had been his reply to which Iphis responded by hugging his leg and threatening that he would not let go unless Theoclymeneus adhered to his request.

"I believe I do not owe you any favours, Iphis."

The pleading had then taken a fervent turn. Alternating between "please" and "I'll do anything," Iphis managed to weasel his way into convincing Theoclymeneus into coming along that before he knew it, he was riding toward the Palace with the triumphant lad in tow.

It had him convinced that Iphis' unassailable power of persuasion was a force to be reckoned with.

And now here he was, listening to his companion launching a tirade of queries on a hapless Hyacinthus.

"One hears talk," Iphis sniffed in a worldly-wise manner. "And this talk was just too good to let pass by without verification. I'm even giving you the benefit of the doubt on some of the other accounts."

"You must be mistaken!" was the indignant cry of the prince but his red ears gave away that there was more to tell. Theoclymeneus knew this had not escaped Iphis and, true enough, the younger lad had pinched both of Hyacinthus' cheeks daring him to lie.

"I am not lying!" Hyacinthus protested, attempting to remove Iphis' hands from his cheeks as they began to hurt.

"You're fibbing!" Iphis smirked. "Your ears are still red," he added in response to the look Hyacinthus threw him that seemed to say: "How ever did you find out?"

It wasn't until Theoclymeneus had finally pried Iphis off Hyacinthus a second time that the prince thought it wiser to give answers than to lie lest he suffer other injuries to his person. His cheeks with pretty sore after having been pinched, they were beginning to take an unnatural shade of red.

"Let me go!" Iphis elbowed Theoclymeneus and managed to get the latter to release him as he doubled over in response to being hit somewhere between his ribs and his stomach. Turning to Prince Evzen's brother, he had an almost malicious grin on his face.

Without a thought to his words, Hyacinthus quickly shook his head, waving his hands in front of him and said in a desperate: "Nothing happened!"

"Aha!" was his friend's triumphant crow.

It wasn't until he saw Theo giving him an odd look that seemed as though he was between shock and resignation that he realised the implication of the words he had just said. Attempting to remedy it quickly, he added another sentence: "It's not what you think!"

"Oh?" Iphis' tone was thought of an annoying I-know-something-you-don't variance that it would have irked him, but in his nervousness and fear of uttering anything else he had not noticed it. "And _what_ exactly am I thinking?"

Hyacinthus bit his lip. Perhaps if he said even less to nothing, Iphis would let the subject die.

But of course, Iphis was irrepressible as always. When he wanted answers, he'd get them—one way or another. He had always been resourceful. "I guess that means I have your leave then," he said in a nonchalant manner as he surveyed his nails as though they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"My leave?" Hyacinthus spoke, curiosity getting the better of him.

Iphis shrugged. "You won't give me answers and I think I know why. You'd prefer that I convince Xenos to answer my questions instead of having to answer them yourself. "

"You will do no such thing!" Hyacinthus' face had turned pinkish red that even Theoclymeneus had to suppress the grin that was threatening his face. Much as he did not like Iphis' insistent spirit, the chance to see Hyacinthus' face flush a bright red was quite amusing.

"Then tell me what happened after he saw you slip and fall in the bathing area!" The glint in Iphis' eyes warned him that the answer would have to come out from him or he'd go straight to Xenos and demand to have the whole thing out.

Theoclymeneus was beginning to feel sorry for the prince. Here he was, lain up with a bad ankle—which, fortunately, had not been broken during his fall—with and a friend who was determined to here if gossip was a preferred story to the truth.

Hyacinthus sighed.

He had thought that being allowed to sit in the gardens would be quite a pleasure after being holed up in his room to recover from his sprained ankle. It had pained him for a couple of days before the pain settled into a dull ache that only hurt even more if he made any sudden movements.

It was Cletus who had convinced Evzen that it would "be in Hyacinthus' best interest if he were allowed some sunlight."

Evzen had been reluctant and had snapped at his younger brother: "That is out of the question, Cletus. It would be best if he stayed here where the chances of him meeting another accident is less than likely to happen."

Eventually, however, the fourth prince had persuaded the third prince that Evzen finally agreed to allowing Hyacinthus to sit in the garden, provided that he only sat and did no such strenuous activity as running or walking about. A promise was extracted from the invalid with the clear of tones expressing what it was that awaited him if he did not keep to his side of the bargain: complete bed rest until his ankle had recovered.

That in mind, Hyacinthus banished all plans of hightailing it out of the garden to escape Iphis. He would rather bear this than return to complete bed rest. Being confined to one's room was not a pleasant experience as one was constantly surrounded by walls, with only a window or two to view the world outside.

"W-What do you w-w-want to know?"

oo00oo

All was not well in Aeolia.

That much was evident in the general ambiance of the place. Gone were the gentle breezes that wafted through the trees and the occasional gustiness that shook the leaves. Instead, in its place was an unusual and foreboding calm that usually came before a dangerously deadly storm.

Perhaps the mortals could feel this as no supplications were made at the temple. Neither pleas nor praises filled the island's temple. No one came and went.

The island seemed abandoned and gave off the air of having been uninhabited for centuries.

"What in the world happened here?" Artemis murmured as she gazed at the Anemoi's palatial residence with concern, before dismounting from her steed. She didn't wait for her half-brother to dismount as she ran up to the door and banged on it with her fist.

"Boreas! Are you in there?" she called out.

Hermes, having dismounted, was surveying the grounds. The surrounding greenery and flora were in order, though their usual lustre left something to be desired.

"They're not here," his half-sister's voice interrupted his observation, as she walked up to him, clearly displeased that none of the Anemoi were in.

"I highly doubt that, 'Temi," the messenger-god motioned to the plants. "The shrubs and the flowerbeds are in order—though certainly not in their best appearance—nonetheless, that means they are in residence. Perhaps, not all of them are. So unless my observations are amiss, I believe the East Wind is in. And where Eurus is, Notus isn't far behind."

It was then that the sound of sarcastic clapping joined them, announcing the presence of a very severe South Wind, dressed for hunting, with a bow tucked in his arm. His attire was dark in colour, and the contrasted perfectly with the embroidery on it. Eos had used shimmering, silver thread for her work and the result was a magnificent piece of clothing fit for a god.

"I must say, you look absolutely dashing today, Notus," Artemis said with an unusual grin on her face and a hand on her hip. "Are you planning to stun the creatures on this island with your clothes?"

"What I do is none of your concern," was the biting reply she received before the speaker turned to her half-brother. "I would commend your keen observation, Hermes, had it not been for your faulty conclusion."

The Huntress bristled at having been passed over by the South Wind with a direct dismissal to her jest. No sooner had Notus finished his remark, she launched her attack: "Eurus finally run away from home then, Notus? Perhaps he's had just about enough of your overbearing personality?"

Hermes caught a dangerous glint in the South Wind's eyes and immediately pulled Artemis behind him, placing himself between the Huntress and the tip of the South Wind's dagger. The blade flashed in the sunlight as though announcing to the world its capability to destroy life.

There were only four daggers with the same onyx blade, and each of the Anemoi had one. A fitting present if your paternal uncle was the god of destruction.

"She didn't mean it, Notus," the messenger-god said as he shielded the Huntress while sternly eyeing his half-sister as she made to protest his declaration.

The mocking arch of the South Wind's brow as it rose served only to infuriate Zeus' daughter, but she held her tongue lest Hermes bear the worst of the weapon. It was rumoured that after Perses had fetched the daggers from Hephaestus, who had laboured on them, he had brought them to Tartarus. What the latter did with the blades, no god had ever found out, but the weapons were blessed—or cursed, depending on one's perspective—with the rarest ability of killing an immortal.

Sheathing his dagger, the South Wind summoned with his wind the bow he had cast aside before turning to walk away from the 'intruders.' "If you're looking for Boreas, my useless elder brother isn't here. Neither is the West Wind or Eurus."

"Where is the North Wind then?" the messenger-god called after the retreating figure.

"That is not for me to answer, nor for you to ask."

oo00oo

"What do I get in return?"

Perses glared menacingly at Death. Though they were cousins albeit distantly, Tartarus never did any god a favour; instead he negotiated death the way one did business: ruthless and cutthroat. A far cry from his brother, Hypnos, who would grant favours every now and then.

"My brother and his family's undying gratitude," the god of destruction replied.

"That will be of no use to me," Tartarus retorted flippantly. "No, that will not do. Gratitude is all and well but it—personally—is of little to no consequence whatsoever. I prefer a decent barter, Perses, so unless you can come up with one, I'm afraid your little nevvy will simply have to—so to speak—bite the dust."

With that Death stood from his chair and was about to make his way toward the egress when Perses' next sentence stopped him: "What do you want, Tartarus?"

The almost cruel grin on the face of his cousin was dark and had touches of malevolence in it. "Ah, but you are mistaken, Perses. I do not want anything. Rather, I'd like a replacement for the life I will spare. Only, it is a matter of _who_ I will take when the time comes."

"I will have to declare an impasse then," Perses countered. "None of my brothers and I are willing to part with our children."

"It needn't necessarily be one of your children."

**To be continued...**

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A/N: I finally managed to bring out Chapter 25 after so many false starts and the accidental deleting of my initial draft for this chapter. Hopefully you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it. I've got a whole weekend ahead of me and there's still 48 hours to go before Monday's back in sight.

If you're wondering what Iphis and Hyacinthus are talking about, rest assured that the next chapter or so will discuss it in a bit more detail.

Also, I'd like to hear from my readers (if you're still keeping up with me). Tell me what you like or don't like about the story. Tell me who your favourite characters are and why. I like hearing commentary as it helps fuel the writing spirit.

Until the next chapter!

-kuropi-chan


	27. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

Author's Notes: This chapter is dedicated to **FadedImitation** and **XMistressChaosX**.

* * *

Notus frowned as he watched the East Wind's attempts at pacifying their youngest brother.

Esosphorus had been nothing short of a handful since Hesperus succumbed to the mysterious illness that had caught their family unaware. It wasn't that the younger of the twins was deliberate on such behaviour. The elder twin's absence weighed on his poor conscience and it was understandable as they had always been together since birth.

It had been the eighth night since their brother had fallen ill and it had been difficult. Eos was almost at her wit's end when two of her elder sons arrived at their parents' abode after having been summoned by their father as a precautionary measure.

Astraeus had gently reprimanded his wife, reminding her that she too needed respite from the constant vigil she kept by the invalid's bedside, but she was not to be swayed and was adamant to waiting on Hesperus who had yet to wake from his slumber.

The burning brow was brought to cool with cloths spun of the softest clouds dampened with morning dew, the occasional whimpers and cries of pain were soothed by lullaby after sweet lullaby, the searching hand that rose by night was held by the gentlest hands, and the cheeks that were pale and grey were kissed by an affectionate yet distraught mother.

The god of dusk said nothing at this—for even he knew better than to argue with his wife—instead, he sent for his sons...rather, sent for his remaining sons who were at his disposal as the West Wind was still in Laconia and Boreas was nowhere to be found, having disappeared shortly after his younger brother had taken residence in Amyclas' palace.

On their arrival, the East Wind immediately relieved their mother of a restless Esosphorus, thus permitting their mother to return to Hesperus' bedside and see to his comfort.

"Phory, please," Eurus coaxed their youngest brother. "You need to bathe before you have something to eat." The South Wind alternated between wheedling and begging, though his best efforts were for naught as a resoundingly stubborn "No" was given as a reply.

At this, the South Wind rose from his seat.

He'd had enough and he would be damned before he let the godling have the run of the household, brother or no brother.

"Eurus."

The East Wind knew the tone the South Wind addressed him with. He was quite familiar with it as it was the very tone Notus used when he would brook no further argument, indicating that any discussion he was engaged in was to cease—immediately.

"He'll come out," Eurus half-whispered, half-pleaded as he looked up at the South Wind, who quickly dismissed his assurance with a severe shake of his head, to which the East Wind replied: "Please be gentle with him."

Intent on ignoring the request, the South Wind threw open the oak doors and unceremoniously entered the room—a cautiously quiet Eurus following in his wake—the air thick with tension as he laid eyes on Esosphorus who had buried himself beneath his blankets, eyes wide and trembling in fear.

"You will do as you're told, Esosphorus, or so help me I'll—"

"Come, come, Notus," a chiding voice interrupted the tirade. "Is that any way to address your brother?"

Esosphorus, hearing the voice, clambered down his bed trailing his blanket and ran towards his 'rescuer,' who picked him up with ease and proffered a cheek that was promptly kissed by Eos' youngest son.

"Hullo, cousin," Bia appeared from behind Esosphorus' 'hero,' who turned out to be none other than Kratos, Pallas' second son. "It seems you've quite a handful."

Eurus smiled apologetically at his Uncle's youngest son. "It does seem like it..."

"What was the ruckus about?" Kratos inquired of the victim. "Was Notus being mean to you, Phory?"

The godling buried his face in his elder cousin's shoulder, tightening his arms around Kratos' neck, and softly replied that his elder brother had frightened him.

The South Wind gave a derisive snort at the accusation. "That's preposterous."

"You _were_ a bit harsh," Eurus softly said, quickly adding that Esosphorus was also in the wrong for trying to avoid being bathed when Notus raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"All this because of a bath, Phory? Surely not," Kratos continued to chide his little cousin, who stayed in his arms and refused to look up. Turning to his uncle Astraeus' elder sons, he said, "Mother sent us. She thought you could use some help."

"Thank you," Eurus smiled. "That was very kind of her."

"Us?" the South Wind said at the same time.

"Indeed, us," Nike's voice floated into the room as she entered, divesting herself of a dark ebony cloak before handing it to her eldest brother, Zelus. "You needn't look at me like that, Notus. You do not frighten me in the least bit."

"You will pardon her, Notus," Zelus said as he stood next to the South Wind.

"Eurus, darling, you look absolutely exhausted," Nike cried as she held the East Wind at arm's length after having enveloped him in a tight embrace. "What has Notus been doing to you?"

"I refuse to dignify such an absurd accusation with a reply," the South Wind replied haughtily, having acknowledged Zelus' presence with a curt nod.

Blushing, the East Wind hurried to correct his cousin. "Brother has done nothing to harm me, Nike. On the contrary, he has been most kind and attentive to me though I have yet to heed him as I've had to keep a constant eye on Phory recently."

At this, the goddess of victory gave Eurus a soft pat on the head that would have been mistaken as condescending had anyone beyond family been present at that very moment. "Oh Eurus, you darling little ignorant thing, how cruel can you be?"

Confused, the East Wind inquired as to what he could have possibly done to have been considered both cruel and ignorant to which Nike merely shook her head with a knowing twinkle in her eye: "That's for me to know and for you to find out, isn't it?" Linking her arm with the East Wind as she smirked superiorly in the South Wind's general direction, the goddess of victory demanded that she be shown the youngest of the brothers.

Kratos gently nudged the godling in his arms. "I'm afraid this one's been at the receiving end of one of Notus' rages."

"Now that won't do," Nike pronounced as she kissed the golden head that rested on her brother's shoulder. "Notus will have to make amends, of course."

"What?" the irritated tone interjected.

"You _are_ the offending party," was the sound reply he received.

"Certainly not."

Pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighed, Nike hid a smile. "In that case, I suppose you'll have to bear the consequences of such a refusal, cousin, if you continue on this note."

The South Wind glared at her, to which the goddess merely raised a brow. The argument was lost on the East Wind who was bewildered as to why Bia chortled good-naturedly or the reason as to Kratos was beaming as though he had been named King of the god-even Zelus' attempts to suppress the smile on his face was failing miserably.

After a moment or two, the South Wind relented and apologised to a repentant Esosphorus, who then burst into tears and bawled an apology in return, all the while embracing his elder brother as though his very breath depended on it, for he feared losing even an ounce of his brother's affections for him.

oo00oo

Olympus was in session. The Twelve could be seen seated on their respective thrones, deep in discussion.

If one could call it a discussion.

The steady rumble of Zeus' voice occasionally interrupted by disgruntled muttering from one side of the room and vehement protests from the other—could be heard lording it over the other Immortals.

"I still don't see what the trouble is," the king of the gods reasoned.

"He ruined my loom father," his grey-eyed daughter replied coldly before adding: "Twice. And he threw the lump of silver that Hephaestus was going to fashion into arrowheads for Artemis—"

"Hephaestus isn't complaining."

"—Then he kept intentionally spilling his cup of nectar so that poor Hebe's attention would be solely on him—"

"Again, it's not like your sister is complaining."

"—He also ran away with Hermes' sandals for a frolic, ruined Ares' chariot, slashed one of Hera's gowns into pieces using Uncle Poseidon's trident, frightened Aunt Hestia and almost stole Uncle Hades' helmet of invisibility before Hermes talked him out of it," with that Athena ended her recitation of the offenses committed by her half-brother in the course of a fortnight.

Zeus turned from Athena's severely stern countenance to the perpetrator of the aforementioned deeds.

"What have you to say against these accusations, Apollo?"

The shame-faced look on his son was enough to tell Zeus that his eldest daughter indeed spoke the truth. "It seems apologies are in order."

"Apologies?" was Athena's incredulous response. "He vexes us all—exceedingly, father—and you declare that apologies are in order?"

"What would you have me do, Athena? He _is_ your brother, not to mention his offenses seem to be bordering on light mischief," Zeus reasoned with the goddess of wisdom.

"_Half_-brother," the grey-eyed goddess amended frostily. "And I am demanding payment for the damage done, father."

"He'll have a new loom made especially for you then," was her father's quick reply, to which she shook her head.

"I will not be bribed with such a gift, father. You know as well as anyone else that I _personally_ oversee the creation of all my looms."

"Oh come off your high horse, Athena," Aphrodite's voice could be heard saying. "It's not as if your loom was anything special."

"This coming from someone who cannot keep to her husband's chambers," Athena threw a look of pity in her half-brother's direction. "Who dabbles in nothing but love affairs and such nonsense!"

"At least I have feelings!" the goddess of beauty shrieked. "You haven't emotions of even the remotest kind, you cold unfeeling—"

"That's enough," Zeus attempted to cut in.

"Ah, yes feelings," Athena acknowledged condescendingly. "It is no wonder your office is such that it requires someone severely lacking in the mental department."

"My office requires passion!"

"Oh, tra la! And where has that led us, pray tell? You've shamed your husband, bore his brother a son and go about your way as though you have committed no grave error in judgment after having given into your 'passion' as you so eloquently put it. Ha, I would rather I kept my wits about me and remained a cold block of marble rather than submit myself to such degradation."

Aphrodite was quite flushed with anger at this point. Her husband, the smith-god, said nothing whilst his own brother, the god of war, had the decency to bow his head and colour with embarrassment. The goddess of beauty and sexual desire would have launched into an all out tirade against her sister-in-law had she not been interrupted by the sound of shrieks and cries at the very moment she parted her lips to reply.

The heavy iron doors of the atrium burst open and—to everyone's surprise—Eris came running in, the look on her face resembled that of a mortal chased by the Erinyes.

Zeus was hardly out of his throne when his daughter launched herself at his feet, weeping uncontrollably and murmuring incoherently as she trembled in fear. He looked to his wife, as though Hera held the answer to the mystifying appearance of their rarely seen daughter, but the Queen of the gods shook her head—she was just as perplexed as he was.

"Eris, what _is_ the matter?" he asked as he attempted to get her to loosen her hold on his leg.

"They're after me, father!" the goddess of discord and strife was inconsolable and only held on tighter.

"Who are?"

It was then that the unmistakeable sound of thundering hooves could be heard making their way toward the atrium. As the sound drew nearer, Eris' sobs grew louder.

"What in the name of—"

The query remained unfinished as three riders dressed in the deepest and richest of black and grey robes appeared, each of them astride a majestic ebony steed with flowing dark manes and obsidian-coloured eyes, burst through the door of the atrium.

"What is the meaning of this?" Zeus thundered enraged at the utter lack of propriety the three had exhibited by barging into the hall when a meeting was in session, never mind that his own daughter had done so only moment before.

"I demand restitution for my son," a cold voice echoed.

"And who, pray tell, are you?"

The middle rider threw off his hood, revealing the coldest pair of grey eyes and the darkest of black hair. His companions did the same, revealing the exact same physical attributes.

"Astraeus!"

**To be continued**...

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Author's Note: I do sincerely apologise for having taken so long to update this. I have been debating with the right course of action to take with regard to the plot and—admittedly—even contemplated scrapping the entire thing altogether. But then I realised it would be completely unfair to the people who have stuck with me through 27 chapters (including the prologue). Hence, I dedicated this chapter to two of my readers who sent me lengthy reviews which I appreciate very much as it gave my spirits a boost and flamed the realisation that all this scribbling was not for nothing. Do take the time to review as I really appreciate your thoughts on the story so far.


	28. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

Erratum:

_For Chapter 25_: I referred to Hypnos' brother as Tartarus. It's supposed to be **Thanatos**. (_Thank you to Ivy for pointing this out._)

_For Chapter 26: _"Phory, please," Eurus coaxed their youngest brother. "You need to bathe before you have something to eat." The **East Wind** alternated between wheedling and begging, though his best efforts were for naught as a resoundingly stubborn "No" was given as a reply. (_Thank you to FadedImitation for pointing this out._)

Author's Note: Thank you very much to all of the people who took the time to review this work of mine and also to point out the mistakes.

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Slow, hushed footsteps made their way along the dark marble floor. Not a sound could be heard as the intruder craftily made its way through the long hallway—passing by various chambers without taking an inquisitive peek into any of them.

Instead, it proceeded to the last chamber at the end of the hallway, pushing the silver door open without so much as a sound.

The room was spacious as it was open, with columns surrounding half the perimeter of the room in measured intervals, with a balcony lining the area. The sheer curtains, made from the finest of white butterfly wings, hung in between the marble columns, floating as a soft breeze rose from the sea, whose waves could be heard crashing along the shore below.

The cloaked figure quietly scanned the room, its gaze falling on the bed that stood on one side of the room. Parting the silver-like bed curtains, the intruder peered in.

The reclined body, resting leisurely whilst covered with silk beddings hardly stirred as the moonlight made its way past the parted cloths, dancing into the bed chamber.

Leaning, ever so slightly, the intruder would have awoken the slumbering figure had not it felt a blade press dangerously against its throat.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Moving away from the bed, the intruder turned to face the blade's wielder, removing its hood to reveal rich, dark brown hair held in place by several pearls and sea stars and a pair of lovely sea-green eyes that stared back in return.

"Greetings, Morpheus."

oo00oo

_That the sons of Crius had entered—no, barged—into a council meeting of the Olympians had been unheard of. _

_Long had it been established that there was no love lost between the two families, sons of prominent Titans and Titanesses, the irony being that their own fathers were not only good friends but brothers: Cronus and Crius._

_After the initial shock had died down, Zeus—having managed to recover from the intrusion—felt his brow furrow. What had the god of dusk meant by his quest for retribution? With the number of sons Astraeus had, it was quite difficult to pinpoint as to whom it was he referred to in his statement._

"_And you seek restitution in Mount Olympus?"_

_The cold, grey eyes carried a dangerous glint in them as Eos' husband's gaze fell on the quivering heap that was the goddess of discord. Eris was cowering in her mother's arms, weeping as though she had lost a brother in war. "By law, your daughter's life is forfeit."_

_Zeus' blue eyes widened. "Forfeit..." he murmured softly._

_For an Immortal to have his or her life forfeited meant that..._

_Turning to his daughter, the lightning god questioned her. "What have you done, Eris?" Attempting to hide the evident fear in his voice, Zeus had asked her in his gruff tone to which she responded with an unsteady: "I do not know."_

"_It seems my sister does not know of the offence you speak of," Ares dared to speak, his red eyes like the heart of a flame. "And false accusations shall not be tolerated in this place."_

"_Ah," the icy, calm and collected voice of the god of destruction interrupted. "But you are mistaken, Ares, in accusing my brother of falsehood."_

"_How so?" the god of war responded haughtily. "You barge into a council meeting, demand my sister's life and _claim_ that she has committed a severe transgression against your nephew. A transgression, which she says she has no memory of. Are you not treading on dangerous ground already, Perses?"_

_Motioning to Apollo, Perses replied: "Perhaps, you ought to ask your own brother."_

"_Apollo, say something," the god of war hissed at his half-brother, who had yet to speak on any matter since the meeting and its subsequent interruption began. "She is as much your sister as she is mine."_

"_He speaks the truth..."_

"_You lie!" Ares roared, launching himself at the god of Truth, who found himself being grabbed by the robes and shaken in a rage. Hermes, with the help of his elder half-brother, Hephaestus, pried the god of war from their half-brother, who reached for his own sword only to have his hand stayed by his sister._

"_Such an interesting brood you have, Zeus," Pallas observed as his hands fell to clapping in a sarcastic pace at the spectacle before them. "They take after you—in some aspects. Fortunately, they have their mothers to even them out."_

_Things would have gotten out of hand had not cooler heads prevailed. With her half-brothers going at each other's throats, her half-sister a crumbling heap of nerves and her father glowering at their guest—yes, the relation was shaky but the sons of Crius were family nonetheless, Athena turned to the god of dusk: "You have made your point, Astraeus. Now tell us what offence my half-sister has committed."_

"_Your sister—"_

"Half_-sister," the goddess of strategic warfare emphasized, only to be ignored by the Anemoi's father._

"—_has poisoned my son, Hesperus," Astraeus continued. "She gave him a bite of fruit which she had laced with poison and now he lies in bed in agony while my wife grieves."_

_Athena gave a nod, pondering as she did the information she had just received. Turning to her half-sister, she asked: "Eris, did you or did you not give Astraeus' son a bite of poisoned fruit?"_

"_Athena, do you not believe your sister to be innocent of such a crime?" their father admonished his eldest born daughter. "She is your family."_

"_Father, it is high time you admit that your daughter, my half-sister, has a penchant for mischief," the grey-eyed goddess replied. "It is how she is, as she cannot help herself. I ask her because I wish to hear her defence against this...accusation, if it sooth your ruffled feathers that I do call it that." Turning once more to the offending party, she repeated her query: "Did you or did you not, Eris?"_

_The goddess of discord said nothing at which Athena turned once to Apollo with a raised brow. The poet-god refused to meet her eye, though his twin prodded him with hushed whispers and soft coaxing._

_With a sigh, the goddess of wisdom stood from her throne and made her way toward her brother, who was also standing though looking at any direction but hers. Having reached the god of Truth, she forced him to look at her, grabbing hold of his face by his chin. _

"_Is the accusation true, brother?"_

"_Yes. It is."_

_Giving his cheek two pats, both of which caused the god to wince, Athena turned to Crius' sons. "Her life _is_ forfeit."_

_At this, Perses and his brothers gave a nod in agreement, while Zeus' voice could be heard raging: "That is not your decision to make, Athena! She is your sister!"_

"_And she has committed a grave error in judgment," Athena returned._

"_You will not condemn your sister to her death!" Zeus thundered. Poseidon held his brother back as Pallas made his way toward Hera, who had Eris in her arms, begging her not to allow Pallas to take her away._

_Blood would have been spilt that night had not Hades, the god of the Underworld, who had yet to speak in the proceedings, spoke. "What are the symptoms of your son's illness?"_

_Perses' eyes narrowed at this, while his brother described his nephew's current condition._

"_He's asleep. He burns with a fever and no amount of dew can cool his brow. He stirs, only to reach for something only he can see, but he does not wake. And he cries out in pain."_

"_I believe my wife has a cure for such an affliction," Hades murmured, before turning to Zeus, who sighed and nodded. "What say you to a trade, Astraeus?"_

oo00oo

Parting the silver-like curtains, the god of dreams watched the pale expanse of satin smooth skin rise and fall as the silk bed covers surrounded the slumbering figure, with the soft moonlight slowly entering the bed and racing across the bed and its occupant.

Morpheus pursed his lips in an attempt to suppress the smile that threatened to make itself known, as the sleeping face turned away from the moonlight and buried itself into the soft pillow. His gaze softened as his eyes ran over the dark silken strands that were splayed over the other side of the pillow and a small wrinkle appeared across the nose of the sleeper.

Hypnos' eldest son brushed a finger over the wrinkle ever so softly, covering the smooth skin with silken blankets, before brushing his lips against the pale cheek and whispering: "I'll see you in the morning..."

Drawing the curtains, the god of dreams stepped away from his chambers lest he be tempted to forgo all thought toward his task and return to his bed, into those pale arms.

Without looking back, Morpheus changed himself into a dark raven and flew away—toward the land of Laconia.

**To be continued...**

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Author's Note: I will admit I had a hard time writing that last bit. I had to do a flashback scene for the continuation from the previous chapter instead of launching into it immediately as I initially planned to do. I'm trying to tie up all the loose ends I might have because the story's slowly shifting from the realm of the gods to Laconia. The story _is_ "the Tale of the Hyacinth" after all and I've taken a long time with the detours, so here goes.


	29. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I do not own Greek Mythology.

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"I do not like it," was the sudden pronouncement that filled the quiet room.

"There are many things you do not like, Evzen," Coridan said, looking up from the map he and Cletus had been studying.

"You know what I speak of," Evzen growled softly as he stared out the window and fastened his eyes on the garden where he could see Hyacinthus being entertained by the antics of his friends.

Picking a fig from a bowl, Cletus waved it about as he laughed. "Surely, brother, you are not letting that overprotective streak of yours run wild again?"

Frowning, Evzen tore his eyes from the scene he was watching and glared at his younger brother. "I do_ not_ have an overprotective streak, as you so eloquently put it."

"I find that hard to believe," Coridan murmured as he laid open another map on the table. "Was it not only a few months ago that you beat our guest, who—might I add—was feeling poorly at the time?"

Here Cletus gave another guffaw as he bit into the fig he had earlier plucked from the bowl of refreshments that had been set for them by the servants.

"And let us not forget that you subjected the same guest to a tongue-lashing of the severest kind after you caught him—what did you say his crime was—ah, yes! Behaving inappropriately with our brother, wasn't it?"

"Don't forget the banquet to celebrate the good harvest we had," Kyros' voice drifted from the doorway. His three younger brothers all stood politely and gave him a brief bow. "At ease, brothers, this is not a council for war, or at least, I hope Evzen is not planning on declaring it one," he added in jest.

"I have no plans to declaring war on anything...or anyone!" Evzen threw a severe look at Cletus, who was about to interrupt him. "I only meant to express my unease at this...familiarity between Hyacinthus and _that _person."

"I do not see any cause for worry," Kyros replied. "And neither does father. It seems a reasonable companionship and so far, your suspicions have proven unfounded for the most part, Evzen."

"Like I said," Cletus added as he ducked behind Coridan. "It is brother's overprotective streak that clouds his judgment."

A scroll flew in his general direction. Fortunately, Coridan was swift in his reflexes and caught the scroll before it hit his person or was burned by the many candles that lit the room. As a means to diffuse the third prince's rising temper, the second prince turned to his elder brother, asking why he had come.

"As to that, I think Evzen will be quite pleased as to the news I bring," was the reply he received.

oo00oo

"What does he see in him exactly?" Lichas asked as he lay amongst the cushions and watched Iphis attempt to beat Rasmus into submission while Hyacinthus called frantically to them to stop before someone got hurt. "It's not like he is anything special—well, apart from the fact that he is a Royal Guest."

Theoclymemeus looked up from the scroll on his lap. "What do you mean, Lichas? Speak plainly."

Reaching across the food, Lichas pulled the scroll from Theoclymeneus' lap whilst the latter scrambled to obtain said object back. "You know fairly well whom I speak of, Theo."

"If you mean Xenos, then it is none of our business whatsoever," Theoclymeneus held out his hand, palm up, as a silent demand for his reading material back.

Lichas ignored the outstretched hand and tossed the scroll away, laughing at Theoclymeneus' horror-stricken face. "I heard you and Iphis paid him a visit earlier on after he had sprained his ankle. Did he tell you how it happened?"

"He did, eventually."

"And was it as sordid as the rumours make it out to be?" Lichas's brows danced suggestively. "You know, I did hear an odd version or two circling the city when I arrived from seeing mother."

"How is your mother?"

"She's in good health," Lichas smiled thoughtfully for a moment, before glaring at his friend. "No changing the subject, Theo."

"I did not know we were even on a subject," was the lofty reply.

Lichas was about to argue when Iphis launched himself onto Theoclymeneus' lap demanding that the latter save him from Rasmus, who was running toward them while yelling at the top of his lungs: "I'll get you for that, Iphis!"

"Iphis, kindly get off Theo's lap, would you? I am in the middle on an inquiry and I demand answers!" Lichas sat up and glared at the intruder.

Sticking his tongue out, Iphis turned to Theoclymeneus, who was laughing good-naturedly at Lichas' attempts to dislodge Iphis from his place. "Theo doesn't seem to mind the least bit that I am seated here."

"Well, I mind!" Lichas' voice rose as he added: "Immensely! So if you would be so kind as to vacate the premises, I would appreciate it very much."

Iphis looked thoughtful for a moment, before a sinister yet gleeful smile danced across his face. "Oh, I see..."

Lichas frowned. "Why in Zeus' name are you smiling like that?"

Leaning across to where Lichas was seated, Iphis gave his friend's nose a small tweak before saying: "So you carry a torch for dear Theo, do you?"

"What?!" Lichas spluttered.

Iphis shrugged as he wrapped his arms about Theoclymeneus' neck and threw a backward glance at Lichas. "I can see why, though. Theo has the dreamiest eyes...and the richest hair," he ran his hands through the older boy's hair dark hair, "and who knows what he is capable of in the privacy of his—"

"I believe that's just about enough from you," Theoclymeneus interrupted Iphis' spiel as he untangled himself from the wandering arms and hands. "Any wider, Lichas, and flies would inhabit that deep cavern you call your mouth."

"Isn't he just darling, Lichas?" Iphis batted his lashes flirtatiously. He kissed Theoclymeneus' cheek soundly before running off before Rasmus could gain on him.

"Did he just—"

"I believe he did."

"And you're—"

"I think he only meant it in jest."

"But he—"

"Yes, he did."

Lichas was silent for a moment or two. "But you don't—"

"At the moment? No."

"But you'd like to?"

Theoclymeneus laughed. "If you're asking me if I find Iphis attractive, then I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, Lichas, and say "no." While he may be equal parts amusing and annoying, I'd like to leave my friendship with Iphis at that: _friendship_."

Lichas nodded, taking in what Theoclymeneus said. He glanced at the Iphis' direction as Rasmus gave a victorious shout and launched himself onto his victim before pummelling him. "Very well then, since we've covered your capabilities in the privacy of your chambers, perhaps you'd like to regale me with tales about a _certain _someone?"

oo00oo

Hyacinthus wasn't particularly sure when it had started—or how it even came about.

All he knew for certain was that he seemed to find himself in severely embarrassing situations far too often than he'd like. And every time such an occurrence was to happen, it seemed as though the West Wind made it a point to arrive at the exact moment.

It _had_ bothered him immensely. After all, was he not a prince, the son of the king? His reputation was at stake and he did not wish to be known throughout the land as a clumsy, stupid fool.

For a time, his pride smarted and on more than one occasion, he felt his eyes prickle with hot tears that threatened to fall, perhaps they would have, had he not felt the West Wind's steady and cold eyes on him, as though daring him to let them fall.

There were times though, when he could not but allow himself to shed those tears, uncaring as to the raised brow the Royal Guest threw in his general direction while his sisters—and sometimes, his brothers—would poor over him.

It was always his brothers, his sisters, his father or the servants...never the West Wind.

Hyacinthus clutched at his chest as a slight ache rippled through his chest. He shut his eyes tightly, and took slow breaths of air as though catching his breath like one who had been sprinting.

Having calmed himself, a slight frown played across his lips. This had been happening more frequently in the past few days. What was even more peculiar was that it didn't occur when he was ambling about in his acquired slow pace—after having sprained his ankle, he had familiarised himself with a leisurely and measured pace so as not to abuse his recovering body.

No. It happened when he was sitting down, deep in thought.

Sometimes, he would lie in his bed at night, thinking, then suddenly the tightness would run over him and he would curl up beneath the sheets, clutching his chest while calming himself.

He couldn't be ill...could he? Amyclas' seventh son shook his head frantically, banishing away all thoughts of doom and despair from his mind.

"I am not ill," he whispered.

oo00oo

A splash of rich crimson red ran across the grass followed by a small spot of fiery orange, but this did not catch the eye of the West Wind. Neither did Rasmus's yelling—for it was he who was garbed in the orange chiton—as Iphis once again managed to slip away from his clutches.

Not even the sound of droll laughter from Lichas as Theoclymeneus regaled him with the tale that was requested of him managed to disturb the god from his silent reverie.

Though he was seated by the window, the cold grey eyes did not stir.

"_Come home, brother...Please come home to me..."_

_The youngest of the Anemoi looked up and to his surprise found himself being upraised by a pair of familiar blue-grey eyes. "Hesperus..."_

_The ghostly pale figure stretched his hand as though beckoning the West Wind toward him. "Please, brother...come home..." the pain-filled voice begged piteously. "I want you here..."_

Rousing himself from his reverie, the West Wind's gaze fell on the group below, his eyes betraying nothing as he tightly clasped the small vial in his hand.

**To be continued...**

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Author's Note: Okay, I tried to cover as much as I could without dropping what will happen in the next chapter. Thank you so much for the continued reviews and support. I appreciate it lots and will try my best to repay my readers with more interesting chapters.


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